THE  DEATH  TRUST 


A    NOVEL 


BY 

ADA    L    HALSTEAD  ^ 

OF   CALIFORNIA 

« 
Author  of  THE    SERPENT  BRACELET 


BY    THK    AUTHOR 

BOSTON  AND  SAN  FRANCISCO 
1889 


ELEOTROTYPED  AND  PRINTED  BY 

CASHMAX  KEATING  &  Co  597  WASHINGTON  ST 

BOSTON  IVIASS 


Bancroft  Library 


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ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

1  EVELYN  WELDON "  1 

3  SHADOWS  AND  SUNBEAMS 9 

3  THE  ARRIVAL 21 

4  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE 31 

5  SNAPPING  UP  TRIFLES 42 

6  BENEATH  THE  PINES 51 

7  BETRAYAL 60 

8  THE  MAGICIAN 71 

9  THE  GREEN-EYED  MONSTER 81 

10  WILFORD'S  SORROW 88 

11  A  PROMISE 100 

13  ADIEUX 112 

13  A  TELEGRAM i  •    •  .'  116 

14  ORPHANED 120 

15  ALONE 137 

16  WEDDED  IN  DEATH 143 

17  SIXTEEN  YEARS  AGO 148 

18  TROUBLED  FACES     .  157 


19  DARKSOME  DEEDS 167 

20  A  SISTER'S  LEGACY 180 

21  A  FRIEND  IN  NEED 187 

23  PARTING  WAYS 198 

23  AVE  MARIA 208 

24  FATE  GOETH  FIRST         ....:..  221 

25  HOPE  REVIVED 227 

26  FACE  TO  FACE 235 

27  THE  FALLEN  PORTRAIT 240 

28  GATHERING  MISTS 246 

29  DOUBTS 250 

30  RESOLVES     .        .                 256 

31  WAITING 262 

33  THE  TEST 266 

33  AUBREY'S  TRIAL       .....  271 

34  FAITHFUL  UNTO  DEATH 277 

35  RETROSPECTIVE  AND  PROSl'lX  'H  YE       ...  285 
30  DEVERELL  HALL 292 

37  THE  WEDDING  EVENING 302 

38  LIGHT  THROUGH  NIGHT 309 


THE  DEATH  TRUST 


HARK  to  the  hurried  question  of  despair! 
Where  is  my  ehm,    An  echo 


BRIDE  OF  ABVDOS. 


THE  DEATH  TRUST. 


CHAPTER  I. 

EVELYN    WELDON. 

LOVE  and  hay  are  thick-sown, 
And  come  up  full  of  thistles. 

SHE  had  dawned  upon  the  fashionable  world  of 
New  Orleans  with  a  splendor  that  made  her 
at  once  the  envy  of  half  a  score  of  ambitious 
belles,  and  the  despair  of  as  many  designing 
mothers,  who  had  planned  for  their  eligible 
daughters  the  very  success  Evelyn  had  made, 
with  no  apparent  effort  on  her  own  part,  ere  the 
season  was  at  its  height. 

She  was  dark,  almost,  as  a  Creole  ;  and  beneath 
the  velvet  smoothness  of  her  cheeks,  the  warm 
Southern  blood  surged,  usually  tingeing  them  with 
that  rich  but  dainty  hue  of  red  we  ofttimes  see  in 
mother-of-pearl,  but  at  times  firing  them  up  to  the 
hottest  glow  of  scarlet.  Her  features,  of  the  small 
type,  were  faultlessly  moulded,  save  in  a  curve  of 
the  red  lips,  whicli  inclined  upward  with  an  abrupt- 
ness that  gave  them  a  mocking,  almost  disdainful 

(1) 


2  THE    DEATH   TRUST. 

expression.  This,  be  it  said,  became  most  apparent 
to  those  who  coveted  her  place,  and  were,  conse- 
quently, ever  ready  and  willing  to  dissect  her. 

Her  eyes,  however,  were  her  grand  weapons, 
wherewith  to  slay  or  charm  at  will.  Splendidly 
black  and  mysteriously  deep  they  were,  and  in 
them  reposed  a  soft  and  passive  languor,  which 
occasion  could  awaken  into  brilliancy  outrivalling 
her  dazzling  diamonds,  or  transfuse  with  hauteur 
coldly  severe.  Beautiful  in  face,  tall  and  symmet- 
rical in  form,  carrying  herself  with  elegance  which 
might  well  win  her  a  position  in  any  royal  court, 
she  became  at  once  the  centre  of  attraction  in  the 
ball,  drawing-room,  or  opera-box.  She  was  toasted 
at  every  feast  and  named  at  every  club,  as  Queen 
of  Hearts. 

Yet  among  the  many  who  adored  Evelyn 
Weldon,  who  lived  in  a  delirium  of  bliss  over  one 
smile,  Monsieur  Aubrey  Deverell  —  a  Frenchman, 
young,  handsome  as  Apollo  —  alone  received  her 
obvious  approval.  Miss  Weldon  was  present  at 
all  prominent  social  events,  and  Aubrey  was  her 
inevitable  shadow.  He  danced  with  her;  he 
enticed  her  away  into  dim  conservatories,  where 
they  might  share  mystical  tdte-ti-tetes.  He  sang 
and  read  to  her  by  the  hour,  without  apparent 
fatigue.  They  walked,  they  drove,  they  occupied 
Monsieur  Deverell' s  box  at  the  opera. 

The  season  had  not  passed  its  meridian,  when  it 
was  rumored  that  the  ensuing  spring  would  find 


EVELYN   WELDON.  3 

the  beautiful  flower  of  Florida  installed  as  mistress 
at  Deverell  Hall,  —  one  of  the  oldest  estates  of 
the  South,  whose  windows  overlooked  the  waters 
of  the  Mississippi,  just  beyond  the  domes  of  the 
Crescent  City ;  but  this  rumor,  blown  from  lip  to 
ear  with  such  assurance,  proved  an  air-bubble. 

The  pomp  and  revelry  of  the  season  were  over. 
The  earth  began  once  more  to  gleam  in  emerald 
attire.  New  Orleans  heard  no  more  the  deafening 
roar  of  the  Mississippi,  as  it  plunged  in  white  fury 
toward  its  eternity,  the  expanding  gulf.  As  the 
watery  thunder  subsided,  so  did  the  noisy  cymbals 
of  society.  As  the  tufted  grass  burst  from  the 
esplanades  and  carpeted  the  lawns,  and  the  spring 
buds  expanded  their  petals  to  the  kisses  of  dew 
and  sunbeam,  Evelyn  Weldon  declared  her  inten- 
tion of  returning  to  her  home,  whence  she  had 
come  for  the  winter's  visit  to  her  mother's  sister. 

It  was  the  evening  preceding  the  day  set  apart 
for  her  leave-taking,  and  Evelyn  strolled  with 
Aubrey  Deverell  through  the  garden  at  Seymour 
Heights.  The  night  was  perfect.  A  delicious 
warmth  mingled  with  the  odor  of  new-blown 
flowers.  Fair  Isis  sailed  majestically  in  the 
heavens,  making  the  firmament  glad  with  silvery 
smiles,  while  countless  stars  twinkled  in  the  quiver 
of  the  lake. 

Myrtle  Seymour,  aged  fifteen  years,  was  in  the 
drawing-room  at  the  piano,  interpreting  one  of  her 
favorite  Beethoven  sonatas.  The  music  floated 


4  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

through  the  open  window,  and  mingled  with  the 
redolence  of  the  blossoms.  Deverell  and  his  fail- 
companion  walked  together  in  that  dreamy  night, — 
an  Elysium  which  evokes  the  voice  of  love,  where 
love  exists ;  yet  they  walked  in  silence. 

Presently  the  young  Frenchman  said,  in  his 
seductive  tones :  "  Why  can  you  not  prolong  your 
stay  with  us,  mademoiselle  ?  I  can  not  realize  — 
indeed,  I  do  not  want  to  realize — that  you  leave 
New  Orleans  on  the  morrow.  It  seems  —  forgive 
me !  —  unkind  of  you  to  run  away,  just  when  the 
drives  are  becoming  so  perfect  and  the  opera  is  in 
full  sway.  In  another  fortnight  the  gardens  at 
the  Hall  will  be  at  their  gayest.  I  should  be 
much  pleased  to  drive  with  you  then,  and  show 
you  my  collection  of  roses,  which  is  said  to  be  the 
choicest  in  the  State.  Stay  yet  another  month 
with  us ! " 

He  looked  into  her  face  with  pleading  eyes,  which 
Evelyn  dared  not  trust  herself  to  meet,  as  she 
answered :  "  It  is  generous  of  you,  monsieur,  but 
I  can  not  disappoint  my  parents  again.  Already 
have  I  named  three  dates  for  my  departure.  I 
must  redeem  my  word,  in  this  instance.  Yet  I 
should  like  to  stay  on  forever !  I  adore  life  in  a 
great  city.  After  six  months  of  it  I  hardly  see 
how  I  can  bring  myself  to  endure  our  stupid  and 
tasteless  existence  at  Weldon  Grange." 

How  the  clear  notes  of  the  mocking-bird,  hidden 
in  a  distant  magnolia-tree,  jarred  upon  her  ear,  as 


EVELYN  WELDON.  5 

she  waited  for  his  answer ;  but  she  waited  in  vain. 
A  weight  seemed  pressing  upon  her  heart !  How 
pale  her  cheeks  and  lips,  as  she  listened  for  the 
words  which  she  had  repeatedly  told  herself  must 
come  from  his  lips  that  night !  Alas,  they  came 
not ! 

At  length  the  hour  arrived  for  Farewell  to  be 
said.  Aubrey  then  asked  for  a  Cloth  of  Gold  rose, 
which  nestled,  half-blown,  against  the  purple-black 
bands  of  her  hair.  Evelyn  silently  inclined  her 
proud  head,  as  a  sign  for  him  to  disengage  it  with 
his  own  fingers.  When  she  felt  the  soft  touch 
upon  her  cheek  and  hair,  every  fibre  in  /her  being 
thrilled  with  the  power  of  love  ;  yet  he  spoke  not 
the  words  which  would  have  made  her  one  of  the 
happiest,  perhaps  the  noblest  of  her  sex ! 

He  only  pressed  his  lips  reverently  on  the  half- 
withered  rose,  saying  tremulously :  "  I  will  treasure 
this  forever,  mademoiselle,  as  the  dearest  of  all  my 
possessions."  Then,  bending  over  her  cold  hand, 
he  kissed  it  with  the  same  profound  respect,  and 
whispered,  with  low-toned  fervor  :  "  Adieu,  cMre 
mine!  Adieu!  I  shall  long  remember  the  past 
winter  as  the  happiest  of  my  life  !  " 

She  was  gone.  He  watched  the  door  as  it 
closed  between  them,  scarcely  knowing  his  own 
heart,  and  little  dreaming  what  an  icy  grip  had 
suddenly  seized  Evelyn  Weldon's ;  yet  her  white 
lips  really  trembled  with  keen  disappointment. 

When  the  morning  came,  after  a  wakeful  night, 


6  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

Evelyn  no  longer  felt  disappointed  merely,  but 
chagrined,  deeply  chagrined,  at  what  she  had 
brought  herself  to  look  upon  as  only  Monsieur 
Aubrey's  imperturbable  deliberation. 

"  He  loves  me !  "  she  told  herself.  "  His  eyes 
have  too  often  betrayed  this  truth,  for  his  lips  to 
belie  it  by  their  silence ;  and,  though  they  suppress 
their  story  now,  time  will,  must,  bring  it  forth. 
I  will  return  to  Florida,  and  keep  this  love-affair 
secret,  trusting  the  future  for  its  happier  sequel." 

With  a  heart  thus  rendered  less  heavy  by  its 
new-born  hope,  Evelyn  went  back  to  Weldon 
Grange,  only  to  learn,  however,  that  old,  old  lesson, 
that  hope  deferred  maketh  the  heart  sick. 

Months  passed,  and  not  one  word  did  she  receive 
from  the  knight  of  her  dreams.  Only  the  Spirit 
of  the  Past  told  her  of  his  existence.  From  morn 
till  night,  from  night  till  morn,  she  was  haunted 
by  a  pair  of  brown  eyes,  —  so  loving,  so  true,  as 
they  gazed  into  her  own.  She  was  haunted  by  a 
voice,  coming  back  from  that  beautiful  past,  which 
thrilled  through  her  like  an  electric  current. 

With  the  incoming  of  summer  every  spark  of 
hope  had  died  out  of  her  heart.  One  evening,  as 
she  stood  at  her  chamber  window,  listlessly  watch- 
ing the  amber  cloud-wreaths  mass  their  flame  into 
a  seething  sea  of  fire,  she  shed  the  last  bitter  tear 
over  her  shattered  idol,  telling  herself  that  Aubrey 
Deverell  either  ignored  their  past  acquaintance,  or 
—  what  was  still  worse  —  looked  upon  it  as  but  a 


EVELYN  WELDON.  7 

frivolous  chapter  in  his  book  of  social  triumphs. 
Doubtless  lie  had  flung  away  the  withered  flower 
he  had  taken  from  her  hair,  promising  to  treasure 
it  as  the  dearest  of  all  possessions  ;  or  perhaps  he 
had  consigned  it  to  some  relic-box,  where  dwelt 
fifty  other  love-mementos,  each  with  an  individual 
history  as  romantic  as  the  tale  of  her  Cloth  of  Gold 
rose. 

Now  was  the  fire  of  vengeance  kindled  within 
her  bosom.  "  He  is  as  false  as  Mephisto  !  "  she 
cried  within  herself,  "  but  I  shall  make  him  boast 
of  one  conquest  less  than  his  record  shows.  I 
will  at  once  accept  Wilford  Hylton;  and  the 
coming  winter  will  find  me  queening  the  beau 
monde  of  New  Orleans,  just  as  I  did  last  season. 
Wilford's  prospects  as  a  barrister  would  be  most 
brilliant  in  the  city,  and  he  will  readily  accept  any 
change  to  obtain  me,  after  these  many  years.  He 
will  be  aij  easily  managed  husband  !  Oh  unsuspect- 
ing Wilford !  I  shall  have  my  Evenings  at  Home ; 
I  shall  dance ;  I  shall  flirt ;  in  fact  I  shall  no  longer 
be  the  ice-flower  you  have  been  pleased  to  call 
me.  You  shall  never  surmise  that  my  heart  is  not 
wholly  your  own.  I  believe  I  love  you  less  than 
any  of  my  wooers,  but  I  can  manage  you  better. 
Oh  innocent  Wilford !" 

Evelyn  danced  away,  bent  upon  making  herself 
as  charming  as  possible.  She  knew  the  young 
barrister  would  be  at  the  Grange  that  evening ;  for 
Thursday  had  been  his  regular  calling-night  during 


8  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

the  past  three  years.  He  came  ostensibly  for 
social  chat  with  the  family,  but  really  that  he 
might  be  near  the  chosen  of  his  heart,  the  ice- 
flower  whose  unfolding  he  had  watched  from  its 
budding  until  its  maturity,  —  a  flower  all  the  more 
beautiful  because  of  its  austerity. 

Wilford  went  home  from  Weldon  Grange  that 
night  with  his  brain  in  a  delirium  of  joy,  for  his 
lovely  ice-flower  had  smiled  upon  him  more  than 
once,  and  with  such  benignity!  She  had  played 
selections  from  his  favorite  composers,  and  even 
sung  the  songs  she  knew  he  liked  best,  —  sung  them 
with  such  pathos  as  to  send  his  senses  whirling 
round  and  round,  and  make  his  heart  beat  like  a 
muffled  drum. 

The  following  fortnight  the  young  barrister 
lived  in  Paradise.  There  were  moonlight  drives, 
and  walks  through  quiet  paths.  There  were  long 
and  delightful  evenings  in  the  vine-clad  verandas, 
and  afternoons  on  the  tennis-lawn.  There  were 
low  conversations  under  the  shady  arbors,  —  all 
with  Evelyn,  who  was,  by  the  end  of  that  time,  his 
affianced  bride. 


CHAPTER     II. 

SHADOWS    AND    SUNBEAMS. 

THE  sky  is  changed,  —  and  such  a  change !     BYRON. 
WOULD'ST  let  a  serpent  sting  thee  twice  ?    SHAKESPEARE. 

THE  loud  clamor  of  the  gong  sounded  for  the 
third  time,  summoning  the  Weldon  family 
to  breakfast.  Its  sharp  clang  was  significant  of 
impatient  servants,  and  of  a  breakfast  spoiling, 
which  should  have  been  served  half  an  hour  before. 
As  the  last  vibration  died  away,  Evelyn,  clad  in 
pale  cashmere,  appeared  at  the  head  of  the  stairs 
and  slowly  descended.  She  did  not  enter  the 
breakfast-room  as  she  reached  the  landing  below ; 
but,  sweeping  like  a  princess  down  the  wide  hall, 
she  opened  the  low  French  window  looking  into  the 
garden.  Stepping  lightly  from  the  casement  into 
this  Eden  retreat,  she  took  a  leisurely  survey  of  its 
treasures,  debating  what  flowers  she  should  choose 
to  adorn  her  corsage ;  for  she  was  a  veritable  flower- 
worshipper,  and  never  considered  her  toilet  com- 
plete without  radiant  blossoms.  She  soon  decided 
upon  a  cluster  of  rare  roses.  Hastening  to  the 
trellis,  where  this  plant  crept  in  wealthy  confusion, 
she  plucked  a  few  of  its  delicate  pink  and  dew- 
pearled  beauties,  and  half  buried  them  amidst  the 
cascade  of  lace  flowing  over  her  bosom.  Then, 

(9) 


10  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

humming  a  few  low  notes  of  perfect  satisfaction 
with  the  effect,  —  which  was,  indeed,  charming,  the 
dainty  pink  contrasting  with  the  cream  of  her  gown, 
and  also  with  her  dark  type  of  loveliness,  —  she  was 
about  to  re-enter  the  window,  when  suddenly,  from 
behind  the  corner  of  the  conservatory,  a  young  girl 
of  about  fifteen  summers  appeared,  followed  closely 
by  a  huge  Saint  Bernard  dog,  barking  and  bounding 
about  in  the  very  height  of  the  ecstacy  which  a 
romp  with  his  young  mistress  had  inspired. 

"  Down,  Bijou,  down !  No  more  play  this  morn- 
ing," cried  Hazel  Verne,  as  she  shook  back  the 
gold-brown  tresses  straying  roguishly  about  her 
forehead,  shading  the  dark-blue  eyes  which  glowed 
with  the  fire  of  youthful  animation. 

Bijou  was  not  to  be  easily  subdued.  In  vain 
did  Hazel  caressingly  stroke  his  glossy  black  hair, 
and  talk  to  him  in  persuasive  tones.  He  dashed 
forward  again,  with  loud  barks  challenging  her 
to  follow.  Wishing  to  elude  him  gently,  Hazel 
glanced  about  her  in  search  of  some  loophole  of 
escape.  Espying  the  open  window,  through  which 
Miss  Weldon  had  passed,  Hazel  gained  the  aperture 
with  a  sudden  bound,  just  in  time  to  plant  her  foot 
upon  the  edge  of  that  young  lady's  train,  as  it 
swept  over  the  threshold.  R-r-r-r-ip !  went  the 
folds  thereof ! 

"  Oh  you  stupid !  "  snapped  Evelyn,  turning 
abruptly,  her  eyes  and  cheeks  aflame  with  sup- 
pressed anger.  "  You  disgraceful  tomboy !  "  she 


SHADOWS  AND  SUNBEAMS.  11 

continued,  slowly  surveying  the  culprit  from  head 
to  foot  with  scorching  gaze.     "  I  've  a  mind  to  box 
your  ears  well  for  this  !  " 
Hood  was  right : 

Alas  for  the  rarity 
Of  Christian  charity ! 
Under  the  sun. 

She  was  about  to  suit  the  action  to  the  words, 
when  Hazel  lifted  tearful  eyes  to  Evelyn's  face, 
and  said  tremulously:  "Cousin  Evelyn,  forgive 
me !  I  did  n't,  indeed  I  did  n't  mean  to  so  offend 
you.  I  was  only  trying  to  get  away  from  Bijou," 

"  Oh,  spare  your  apologies  !  "  Evelyn  returned 
with  contempt.  "  You  have  low  manners,  or  else 
you  would  be  in  the  schoolroom  preparing  your 
French  lesson,  instead  of  romping  about  the  grounds 
with  that  dog.  Your  conduct  is  beyond  endurance. 
It  is  insufferable !  " 

"  But  Cousin  Evelyn,"  she  said,  with  brimming 
eyes  still  fixed  appealingly  upon  her  cousin's  dark 
and  passionate  face,  "  you  know  aunty  objects  to 
my  studying  before  breakfast,  and,  —  and  I  delight 
in  being  down  by  the  lake,  these  beautiful  summer 
mornings,  the  water  is  so  clear  and  still,  and  the 
birds  sing  so  sweetly.  Bijou  and  I  like  to  search 
for  their  nests!  Bijou  is  my  only  companion  !  " 

Here  the  sensitive  mouth  quivered  piteously ; 
but  Miss  Weldon,  regardless  of  her  cousin's  agita- 
tion, was  about  to  make  some  sneering  rejoinder, 
when  the  colored  butler  came  hurriedly  along  the 
hall. 


12  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

11  Fore  de  Lo'd,"  he  muttered  audibly,  "  I  nebber 
see  sich  a  bad  reg'lated  fam'ly  as  dis  yah  !  I 's  done 
ring  dat  gong  free  times,  'n  de  breakfas  done  git 
cole !  Missy  Eb'lyn,  missus  done  be  in  de  breakfas- 
room  a'waitin'  foh  you  'n  Missy  Hazel."  With  an 
impatient  flourish  from  one  shoulder  to  the  other  of 
the  towel  he  carried,  he  retraced  his  steps,  leaving 
the  two  girls  to  follow. 

Evelyn  did  not  again  turn  her  glance  toward  the 
face  which  looked  at  her  so  pathetically.  Shaking 
off  the  entreating  hand  laid  upon  her  arm,  she 
entered  the  morning-room,  and  greeted  somewhat 
affectionately  her  mother,  a  sweet-faced,  gray-eyed, 
little  lady,  who  sat  at  the  head  of  the  table.  Then 
she  turned  her  attention  to  a  letter  which  lay 
beside  her  plate,  awaiting  perusal. 

As  Hazel  stooped  to  imprint  the  usual  morning 
kiss  upon  her  aunt's  cheek,  she  could  not  conceal 
the  tears  which  threatened  an  overflow.  Being 
questioned  as  to  the  occasion  of  her  grief,  she 
no  longer  restrained  it,  but  burst  into  convulsive 
sobbing,  explaining  her  trouble  somewhat  inco- 
herently. "Oh  aunty,"  she  concluded,  "Evelyn 
hates  me  so !  I  am  sure  she  hates  me  ;  else  she 
would  forgive  me !  " 

Mrs.  Weldon  pushed  back  the  locks  of  sunny 
hair,  and  gazed  with  compassionate  eyes  upon  the 
clouded  face  of  her  darling,  secretly  wondering,  as 
she  had  done  many  times  before,  at  her  Evelyn's 
implacable  dislike  of  her  foster-sister,  —  the  child 


SHADOWS  AND  SUNBEAMS.  13 

whom  Mrs.  Weldon  had  brought  from  her  brother's 
deathbed  four  years  previous,  promising  to  love 
and  cherish  Hazel  forever,  as  her  very  own. 

Truly  Hazel  had  been  a  continuous  sunbeam 
at  Weldon  Grange,  from  the  day  when  she  first 
passed  its  doorway.  What  could  have  led  to  Eve- 
lyn's dislike  of  her  mother's  protegee?  On  the 
very  day  when  Hazel  came  to  the  Grange,  —  a 
tiny,  black-robed  figure,  fresh  from  her  father's 
new-made  grave,  and  innocent  of  all  that  pertained 
to  the  world's  inhumanity,  —  that  dislike  asserted 
itself.  It  was  then  that  the  child  had  heard  the 
first  stabbing  taunt  about  dependence;  and  it  came 
from  the  lips  of  one  who  she  had  eagerly  hoped 
would  take  her  to  her  bosom,  with  something  of  a 
sister's  affection. 

Alas  for  Hazel's  hopes  !  They  melted  like  frost- 
work in  the  morning  ray.  She  had  not  been  alone 
with  the  daughter  of  the  Grange  fifteen  minutes, 
before  the  child  learned  how  vain  was  her  heart's 
dearest  wish;  for  Evelyn  had  said,  in  a  tone  so 
lofty  that  Hazel  could  never  forget  its  bitterness : 
"  Hazel,  since  you  are  to  make  your  future  home 
at  the  Grange,  I  presume  you  must  needs  address 
me  as  cousin;  but  I  trust  you  will  constantly 
bear  in  mind  our  different  positions,  and  never 
forget  to  look  upon  me  as  your  superior." 

What  a  burden  those  unfeeling  words  added  to 
the  bereaved  girl's  sad  heart !  Despite  this,  how- 
ever, the  barrier  which  rose  between  the  cousins 


14  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

from  that  moment  had  never  seemed  insuperable 
to  Hazel.  In  her  simplicity  she  believed  that 
gentle  perseverance  on  her  part  would,  in  time, 
win  her  the  coveted  place  in  her  frigid  cousin's 
favor ;  but  that  monarch  of  our  lives,  commonly 
termed  Fate,  thwarted  Hazel's  one  ambition.  Each 
day  increased,  rather  than  diminished,  the  wall  of 
division.  Try  as  Hazel  might,  to  elicit,  by  her 
loving  ways,  a  smile  of  approval  from  her  cousin, 
she.  always  received  a  frown  or  a  sneer.  The 
choicest  flower,  proffered  by  Hazel's  hand,  was 
declined  with  a  politeness  which  was  irony  itself ; 
while  petty  caresses  were  ignored  with  a  resolute- 
ness which  chilled,  though  it  failed  to  subdue 
the  younger  girl. 

This  morning  the  strife  had  arisen  most  unex- 
pectedly, when,  fresh  from  sunshine  and  dew, 
Hazel  felt  as  free  and  happy  as  the  delicate-winged 
butterflies  she  and  Bijou  had  been  chasing.  Little 
dreamed  she  of  the  cloud  threatening  to  drench 
the  joy  of  her  heart;  but  now  the  cloud  burst, 
and  tears  rained  in  great  floods  down  the  fair 
young  face,  leaving  not  a  trace  of  sunshine. 

"Why  did  you  wound  her  so,  Evelyn?"  at 
length  questioned  Mrs.  Weldon,  looking  at  her 
daughter  over  the  bowl  of  new-cut  flowers  gracing 
the  centre  of  the  table ;  and  in  the  mild  eyes  there 
was  a  look  of  reproach. 

Evelyn  was  at  that  moment  so  deeply  engrossed 
in  the  contents  of  her  letter,  that  she  failed  to 


SHADOWS  AND  SUNBEAMS.  15 

hear,  or  else  to  mark  her  mother's  words.  Why 
did  her  cheeks  grow  so  pale,  and  then  flush  into 
crimson?  Why  did  her  hand  so  tremble,  as  she 
refolded  the  sheet  of  tinted  paper,  and  looked  up 
when  Mrs.  Weldon  repeated  her  name? 

"What  were  you  saying,  mamma  mine?"  she 
queried,  in  a  voice  wherein  a  sense  of  rapture  wras 
poorly  suppressed.  Evelyn's  bosom  rose  and  fell 
tumultuously ;  but  Mrs.  Weldon  failed  to  note  this 
emotion,  so  deep  was  her  sympathy  with  the  niece 
crouching  beside  her. 

"  I  asked,"  repeated  the  mother,  "  how  you 
could  have  been  cruel  to  Hazel,  over  what  you 
well  knew  to  be  the  purest  accident  ?  You  have 
wounded  her  sorely." 

"But  mamma,  the  child  is  insufferably  awk- 
ward !  She  is  forever  getting  herself  into  disgrace. 
My  new  dress,  too !  It  was  quite  enough  to  pro- 
voke a  saint.  However," -  — this  with  a  softening 
glance  toward  her  foster-sister,  who  had  quietly 
slipped  into  her  place  at  table,  —  "  Phebe's  adroit 
fingers  will  repair  the  injury,  and  Hazel  may 
consider  the  offence  as  condoned,  provided  she 
will  be  more  on  her  guard  in  future." 

Hazel  said  nothing,  but  her  grateful  heart  flut- 
tered, and  her  eyes  said :  "  I  will,  oh  I  will,  indeed, 
Cousin  Evelyn!"  and,  with  a  face  fairly  aglow 
with  happiness,  —  caught  from  the  kind  look  which 
accompanied  Evelyn's  words,  rather  than  from 
the  words  themselves,  —  she  sipped  her  coffee  in 
silence. 


16  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

What  could  have  caused  this  softening  toward 
the  object  of  Evelyn  Weldon's  wonted  contempt, 
and  even  aversion?  Ah,  what  indeed?  That 
white -winged  messenger,  still  trembling  in  her 
hand!  Her  heart  was  now  at  peace  with  all 
things  under  the  blue  canopy,  for  this  messenger 
hailed  from  the  Crescent  City,  and  from  Aubrey 
Deverell !  It  breathed  to  Evelyn  the  sweet  assur- 
ance that  she  was  not  forgotten, —  even  more, 
that  he  would  soon  be  with  her. 

"  Mamma,"  said  the  young  lady,  when  they  had 
finished  breakfast,  and  Hazel  had  gone  to  the  study- 
room,  leaving  the  two  alone,  "  let  me  read  you  my 
letter.  It  is  from  Monsieur  Deverell,  of  New 
Orleans.  Aunt  Lydia  has  doubtless  named  him  in 
her  letters  to  you."  Mrs.  Weldon  assented. 

DEVERELL  HALL,  June  7, 

MA  CHERE  MADEMOISELLE  EVELYN  :  As  I  have  in  pros- 
pect a  trip  to  the  Land  of  Flowers,  I  have  determined,  if 
agreeable  to  yourself,  upon  making  a  brief  visit  to  "Weldon 
Grange.  I  shall  leave  New  Orleans  on  or  about  the  15th 
inst.,  and  will  telegraph  you,  immediately  upon  reaching 
Tallahassee,  the  exact  hour  I  will  be  at  your  station.  So,  if 
the  distance  be  material  between  Jasper  and  the  Grange,  I 
trust  it  will  not  be  presuming  too  far  on  your  hospitality  to 
beg  you  to  meet  me  at  the  former  place,  as  I  am  somewhat 
wanting  in  courage,  and  should  positively  dread  walking 
alone  one  mile  on  unfamiliar  soil.  Trusting  therefore  you 
will  take  pity  on  me,  and  yield  me  your  most  excellent 
protection,  mademoiselle,  —  trusting,  also,  that  you  will 
lookx  somewhat  kindly  upon  my  advent,  — I  await  your' 

reply. 

Obediently  your  servant, 

AUBREY  LEIGH  DEVERELL. 


SHADOWS  AND  SUNBEAMS.  17 

Evelyn  refolded  the  letter,  and  consigned  it  to 
her  pocket,  convinced  that  she  had. .misinterpreted 
Deverell's  protracted  silence,  and  with  her  recent 
bitterness  toward  him  fully  exorcised.  Presently 
she  looked  up,  and  encountered  her  mother's 
questioning  gaze.  The  unwonted  color  of  her 
daughter's  cheek,  the  happy  light  in  her  eye,  were 
now  noticed  by  Mrs.  Weldon  ;  and  Evelyn  felt  her 
face  burn  still  hotter.  Her  eyes'  drooped  under 
the  earnest  look. 

"  You  and  Monsieur  Deverell  are  strangers,  I 
know,  mamma ;  but  as  he  is  one  of  Aunt  Lydia's 
intimate  acquaintances,  and  my  friend,  I  am 
certain  you  will  welcome  him." 

'"I  believe  he  is  the  young  Frenchman  who  paid 
you  such  constant  and  —  as  Sister  Lydia  wrote  — 
significant  attention  in  New  Orleans  last  winter?" 
said  Mrs.  Weldon  evasively. 

"  True,  Monsieur  Deverell  was  courteous  to  me 
while  I  was  there,"  returned  Evelyn ;  and  she  spoke 
almost  curtly. 

Mrs.  Weldon,  feeling  more  perturbed  through 
this  curtness,  continued,  gently :  "Owing to  papa's 
absence  from  home,  your  friend's  sojourn  here 
will  prove  somewhat  dull,  I  fear,  for  want  of 
the  customary  hunting  and  fishing.  Monsieur 
Deverell  will  certainly  be  welcome.  But  Evelyn," 
she  added  with  growing  anxiety,  "let  me  entreat 
you,  do  not  let  his  stay  lead  you  to  neglect  your 
duty  toward  Wilford  Hylton." 


18  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

"  Wilford  Hylton  !  "  echoed  the  daughter,  every 
drop  of  color  forsaking  cheek  and  lip.  Then,  with 
a  futile  attempt  to  regain  composure,  she  said  with 
a  forced  laugh  :  "  Why,  you  dear  silly  mamma ! 
You  take  a  very  sentimental  view  of  Wilford' s 
addresses  to  me.  This  has  been  no  love-affair, — 
at  least,  not  on  my  part !  Reassure  yourself !  " 

She  would  have  laughed  again,  had  not  Mrs. 
Weldon  arrested  her  by  a  tone  of  unwonted 
severity. 

"  Evelyn  !  "  she  cried,  and  her  eyes  were  pained 
as  they  rested  on  her  child's  face.  "Evelyn,  it 
can  not  be  that  you  have  been  trifling  with  this 
man !  Your  father  went  to  Memphis  last  week, 
believing  his  heart's  dearest  wish  had  been  realized, 
— believing  you  were  Wilford's  promised  wife.  It 
can  not  be  that  you  have  heartlessly  deceived  one 
so  good,  so  noble,  so  true  as  Wilford  Hylton !  It 
can  not  be  that  you  have  been  thus  false  to  us  all !" 

"  I  was  weary  of  this  monotonous  life,  with  being 
exiled  from  the  world.  It  was  with  this  desperate 
craving  for  change,  that  I  promised  Wilford  my 
hand ;  but  I  have  bitterly  repented  my  folly  more 
than  once,  during  the  short  weeks  of  our  engage- 
ment. Wilford  bores  me  inexpressibly !  I  believe 
I  actually  like  him  less  than  any  other  gentleman 
of  my  acquaintance.  With  visions  of  a  gay  and 
fashionable  life  in  New  Orleans,  however,  wherein 
was  centred  my  ambition,  I  believed  I  could  be 
happy,  even  witji  him,  after  a  fashion,  —  happy  with 


SHADOWS  AND  SUNBEAMS.  19 

an  insipid  blond  constantly  in  my  train.  I  detest 
blond  men  !  They  are  sentimental,  prosy,  —  every- 
thing but  agreeable  to  me,  and  I  shall  never  marry 
one!" 

"  You  have  cancelled  your  engagement  with  him, 
then  ?"  Mrs.  Weldon  questioned,  or  rather  sobbed. 

"  No ;  but  we  are  to  take  a  canter  over  to  Fair- 
acre  this  morning,  audit  will  be  a  good  opportunity," 
returned  the  other,  with  almost  stolid  indifference. 

"  Poor  Wilf  ord !  poor,  poor  boy !  "  sobbed  Mrs. 
Weldon  ;  and  her  head  sank  lower  and  lower  until 
it  rested  sorrowfully  on  the  table. 

"  I  should  think,"  pursued  Evelyn,  with  a  grow- 
ing sense  of  vexation  over  her  mother 's  depression, 
"you  would  consider  my  happiness  before  Wil- 
ford's." 

"  But,  daughter,  after  all  these  years  of  what  he 
considered  vain  worship,  you  at  least  gave  him 
encouragement.  More,  you  gave  him  a  happiness 
he  never  dared  dream  of.  Now  you  would  delib- 
erately nip  that  new-budded  happiness,  and  thus 
despoil  a  life  that  would  otherwise  be  fruitful  in 
all  that  is  bright  and  worthy.  You  would  trample 
on  a  true  heart,  only  that  your  own  may  be  again 
put  to  the  test  of  disappointment." 

Evelyn  started  at  these  words,  but  her  mother 
went  on  in  the  same  wounded  tone  :  "  Lydia  has 
insinuated  that  Monsieur  Deverell  is  considered 
somewhat  of  a  flirt,  —  an  admirer  of  the  ladies  in 
general.  Though  his  proposed  visit  may  be  incited 


20  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

by  friendship  only,  it  is  this  visit,  evidently,  which 
prompts  you  to  a  revocation  of  your  engagement 
with  the  best  young  man  in  our  circle." 

Evelyn  flushed  and  paled  under  these  true-aimed 
words.  Had  her  mother  then  read  the  secret  she 
had  tried  to  guard  from  all  the  world  !  Her  tone 
certainly  signified  as  much. 

The  girl  felt  her  position  to  be  very  trying.  She 
saw  that  to  prolong  the  subject  would  be  awkward 
as  well  as  impolitic.  She  wished  her  mother  would 
leave  the  room,  or  that  something  would  occur  to 
break  the  awkward  silence  which  ensued,  She  did 
not  care,  just  at  that  moment,  how  terrible  that 
something  might  be,  if  it  would  only  offer  her  an 
opportunity  to  run  away  to  her  own  room,  where 
she  might  be  alone  with  her  unutterable  joy,  —  the 
joy  which  was  convulsive  from  long  suffocation. 

The  minutes  seemed  hours;  but  at  length  foot- 
steps were  heard  along  the  hallway  outside  the 
breakfast-room.  Another  moment,  and  the  door 
was  thrown  open  by  the  butler,  who  announced : 
"  Massa  Hylton  !  Missy  Eb'lyn,  Alcides  am  saddled 
at  de  block." 


CHAPTER   III. 

THE    ARRIVAL. 

I  HATE  the  crowded  town  ; 
I  can  not  breathe  shut  up  within  its  walls. 
Air,  I  want  air,  and  sunshine,  and  blue  sky ! 

LONGFELLOW. 

WELDON  GRANGE,  one  of  the  oldest  and 
richest  estates  in  Florida,  stood  pictur- 
esquely in  the  midst  of  vast  orange-groves,  which, 
in  this  summer  month,  gleamed  with  richest  dark- 
green  foliage,  the  yellow  globes  thick-hanging  in 
delicious  contrast. 

Almost  castle-like  appeared  the  massive  stone 
structure,  with  its  stately  wings  jutting  abruptly 
toward  the  north,  east,  and  west.  Its  many  oriel 
windows  and  gabled  roofs  were  parched  and 
blackened  by  the  suns  of  at  least  five  decades, 
and  guarded  by  several  silvern  spires,  reared  like 
sentinels  against  the  vaulted  sky.  Quaint  carvings 
about  the  eaves,  and  surmounting  the  pillars  which 
supported  the  verandas,  frowned  savagely  down 
upon  a  lawn  smooth  as  velvet.  This  lawn  swept 
along  to  the  wide  driveway  on  one  side ;  while  on 
the  other  it  engirdled  artistic  flower-beds,  and 
formed  a  striking  background  to  the  bevy  of  mar- 
ble cherubs  around  the  fountain,  and  to  the  fair 
Naiad  who  peered  gracefully  through  the  veil  of 
(21) 


22  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

water.  This  fountain  was  the  chief  feature  of  the 
grounds,  the  water  being  thrown  up  from  a  mam- 
moth seashell,  supported  by  the  nymph.  Rising 
into  the  air  in  divided  and  scintillant  columns,  to 
the  height  of  many  feet,  the  water  was  abruptly 
shivered  into  a  myriad  of  gem-like  drops,  and 
then  fell  musically  back  into  the  basin-lake  below, 
which  contained  a  multitude  of  goldfish,  and  where 
floated  the  large-leafed  Ethiopian  lily,  and  other 
aquatic  plants.  A  thick  and  even-clipped  hedge  of 
cedar  skirted  the  orchards,  except  at  the  southern 
extremity,  where  a  lake  gleamed  through  a  high 
and  tangled  wall  of  weeping-willow  and  cypress- 
pine. 

Outside  this  hedge,  look  in  whatever  direction 
one  might,  naught  but  an  endless  stretch  of  forest 
met  the  eye,  with  occasional  sunny  openings, 
through  which  the  white  road  could  be  discerned, 
as  it  trailed  along  beneath  interlaced  branches  of 
hemlock,  pine,  and  cypress,  making  its  way,  like 
a  huge  serpent,  toward  Jasper,  the  neighboring 
town,  in  one  direction,  —  toward  Cypress  Dell,  the 
Weldon  burying-ground,  in  another  direction ;  and 
in  yet  another,  toward  the  gentle  Suwanee,  near 
whose  banks  was  situated  Gerald  Weldon's  vast 
rice  plantation,  known  as  Fairacre. 

How  far  removed  seemed  the  Grange  and  its 
beautiful  surroundings  from  the  noisy  world,— 
how  remote,  indeed,  from  the  tinkling  cymbals  for 
which  Evelyn's  heart  so  languished !  The  Grange 


THE  ARRIVAL.  23 

seemed  like  a  little  world  distinct  unto  itself  this 
evening,  with  the  blue-arched  dome  above,  the  air 
so  hushed,  —  with  no  voice  of  a  living  or  breathing 
thing,  no  sigh  of  leaflet,  no  whisper  from  the  furred 
pines,  lifting  their  dark  arms  high  against  the  sky. 

It  was  almost  sunset.  Already  the  flake- white 
clouds  above  were  tinged  with  amethyst  and  gold, 
and  flowers  were  breathing  out  their  sweetest 
incense.  Magnolia  blossoms  made  the  atmosphere 
almost  stifling  with  their  fragrance, —  so  oppressive, 
indeed,  that  Hazel  Verne  —  who  was  sauntering 
along  the  avenue  beneath  their  cloistering  arms, 
and  had  reached  up  a  rounded  arm  to  take  one 
of  the  waxen  chalices  —  concluded  suddenly  that 
she  did  not  want  it,  and  plucked  a  bright  green 
leaf  instead. 

Then  away  she  tripped  down  the  avenue,  with 
Bijou  at  her  side,  —  her  heart  so  full  of  happiness 
that  low,  sweet  notes  burst  from  her  lips,  despite 
her  desire  to  repress  them,  so  sacred  did  she  hold 
the  quiet  which  reigned  throughout.  It  seemed  to 
her  like  silent  evening  prayer,  in  which  even  the 
birds  had  united;  and  what  was  her  song  but 
prayer,  —  the  prayer  which  the  guileless  of  heart 
all  sing,  in  which  even  the  angels  join !  The 
murmured  song  died  away  gradually,  as  the  young 
girl  came  deeper  and  deeper  into  the  orchard ; 
and  when  it  had  ceased  altogether,  the  air  was  the 
more  solemnly  still.  Toward  an  aperture  in  the 
high  hedgerow  Hazel  made  her  way,  and  then 


24  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

stood,  with  hands  clasped  absently  behind  her,  her 
fair  hair  kissed  by  the  gentlest  breeze,  and  her 
eyes  fixed,  expectantly,  upon  a  certain  clearing  in 
the  forest,  through  which  a  glimpse  of  the  road  to 
Jasper,  six  miles  distant,  was  visible. 

She  was  watching  for  Evelyn's  return,  the  latter 
having  driven  to  the  station  to  meet  her  expected 
friend  and  guest,  from  whom  she  had  received  a 
despatch  that  morning,  stating  that  he  would  reach 
Jasper  by  the  evening  train. 

At  length  Hazel  perceived  a  thick  cloud  of 
dust  curling  upward,  which  signaled  the  vehicle's 
approach.  When  this  cleared  away  she  saw  that 
two  persons  were  seated  in  the  wagon.  Fully  con- 
vinced that  her  cousin  had  not  been  disappointed, 
she  called  to  Bijou,  who  had  been  sitting  near,  — 
his  soft  black  eyes  fixed  upon  her  face,  with  that 
expression  of  affection  so  peculiar  to  his  breed. 
Linking  her  hand  lovingly  within  his  collar,  they 
went  together  beyond  the  hedge  in  search  of  wood- 
violets,  which,  at  this  season  of  the  year,  grew 
luxuriantly  in  shady  nooks  throughout  the  forest. 
It  was  some  time  before  the  cart,  drawn  by  Alci- 
des,  —  Evelyn's  riding  pony,  a  beautiful  iron-gray, 
with  sweeping,  jet-black  tail  and  mane, —  advanced 
through  the  gate  into  the  driveway.  Here  Evetyn 
gave  the  reins  into  the  hands  of  the  hostler,  sug- 
gesting to  her  companion  that  they  walk  through 
the  grounds  to  the  house. 

Monsieur    Deverell   was    somewhat    above    the 


THE  ARRIVAL.  25 

medium  height,  finely  proportioned,  with  broad 
shoulders  and  a  knightly  bearing,  which  made  his 
presence  commanding.  From  beneath  somewhat 
heavy  but  perfectly-arched  brows,  a  pair  of  dark- 
brown  eyes  looked  out,  clear  and  steadfast.  In 
their  depths  the  spirit  of  wit  reposed,  which  spoke 
volumes,  even  when  the  lips  were  mute  beneath 
the  shadow  of  the  drooping  brown  mustache. 

His  hair,  of  a  shade  darker  brown,  was  worn 
close-clipped,  thus  defining  a  high,  olive  brow,— 
his  noblest  feature,  indicative,  like  his  eyes,  of 
intellectuality,  befitting  the  forehead  of  some  olden 
bard.  His  hands  were  decidedly  masculine  in 
shape,  but  white  and  soft,  —  unmistakably,  hands 
whose  touch  could  speak  eloquently  enough  to 
excite  woman's  love.  His  voice  was  never  monoto- 
nous ;  and  every  syllable  was  a  note  suggestive  of 
its  rich  tenor.  What  a  voice !  What  power  to 
thrill  a  sensitive  heart!  There  was  rapture  in 
listening  to  it,  even  in  ordinary  conversation. 

As  Evelyn  and  her  visitor  sauntered  on,  he  sur- 
veyed, with  a  true  connoisseur's  eye,  the  magnificent 
picture  which  the  Grange  presented  in  the  twilight, 
with  the  oriel  windows  ablaze  in  the  sun's  parting 
rays,  and  the  spires,  like  fairy-wands,  gleaming 
against  the  sky,  —  a  sky  where  sprites  might  dwell 
in  love,  a  home  where  happiness  should  reign 
supreme  ;  and  so  thought  Deverell,  as  he  gazed 
silently,  almost  breathlessly,  upon  the  picture. 

"What,  a  perfect  background!"  he  at  length 


26  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

remarked  to  Evelyn,  who  had  been  watching,  with 
eyes  full  of  a  pleased  light,  his  charmed  contem- 
plation of  her  home ;  for  she  was  proud  of  Weldon 
Grange.  f 

"  The  lake  glistening  yonder  through  the  dark 
foliage,  together  with  this  gorgeous  sunset,  confer 
such  a  magic  effect  that  I  am  inclined  to  believe  all 
this  to  be  but  a  scene  of  enchantment,  and  shall 
expect,  presently,  to  see  water-nymphs  take  full 
possession.  Truly  dear  mademoiselle,"  he  added 
seriously,  "you  should  be  content  and  happy, 
beyond  a  desire,  in  such  a  home.  It  is  heavenly !  " 

"  Happy !  "  and  Evelyn  challenged  him  with  a 
coquettish  glance  from  beneath  her  long  lashes. 
"Ah  yes!"  with  a  sigh,  which  (in  justice  to  her, 
let  it  be  said  )  was  not  feigned.  "  I  know  I  should 
be  happy  here ;  but,  monsieur,  even  Paradise  itself 
would  in  time  grow  tedious  if,  day  after  day,  the 
same  humdrum  routine  beset  you.  My  conception 
of  true  happiness  involves  life  in  town,  where  one 
is  offered  constant  diversion.  I  am  not  idyllic 
enough  to  circumscribe  my  existence  within  orange- 
groves  and  rice-fields." 

Aubrey  laughed.  "Ah,  Mademoiselle  Evelyn, 
how  our  opinions  differ !  To  me  the  air  is  stifling 
in  the  crowded  town.  I  would  never  become  bored 
with  such  joy  as  could  be  extracted  from  a  home 
like  this.  With  all  this  pure,  sweet  air  to  breathe, 
these  endless  forests  to  explore,  I  should  find 
continual  diversion.  And  you  have  a  companion," 


THE  ARRIVAL.  27 

he  added.  "  Mrs.  Seymour  has  mentioned  to  me 
a  foster-sister,  —  your  cousin,  I  believe." 

"  Oh,  Hazel  is  but  a  mere  child.  Being  under 
the  tuition  of  a  governess,  of  course  she  proves  a 
very  poor  companion  for  me,"  returned  Evelyn; 
"but  come,  monsieur,"  she  continued,  —  discom- 
fited, she  knew  not  why,  at  this  inadvertent, 
though  direct  reference  to  Hazel  Verne, — "  what  a 
neglectful  hostess  you  must  think  me,  for  suffering 
you  to  loiter  here,  when  I  should  remember  your 
fatigue,  and  that  you  are  almost  starved.  Come  ! 
I  see  mamma  is  waiting,  on  the  veranda,  to  be 
presented." 

Introductions  being  over,  and  a  few  compliments 
exchanged  between  Mrs.  Weldon  and  her  daugh- 
ter's visitor,  he  was  conducted  to  his  apartment, 
and  Evelyn  hurried  away  to  dress  for  dinner. 

As  she  reached  the  head  of  the  stairs  she  came 
abruptly  face  to  face  with  her  foster-sister.  Hazel 
was  dressed  in  white  lawn,  her  bright  curls  caught 
into  a  careless  cluster  at  the  back  of  her  shapely 
head,  and  there  confined  by  a  knot  of  pale-blue 
ribbon.  Lovely  and  pure  she  appeared,  like  the 
tiny  bunch  of  wood- violets  which  she  held  in  one 
hand ;  but  the  smile  which  lingered '  about  her 
sensitive  mouth  lost  something  of  its  brightness  as 
she  met  her  frowning  cousin  thus  suddenly,  and  her 
eyes  fell  beneath  the  glance  which  always  expressed 
so  much  disapprobation  when  fixed  upon  her; 
yet  she  asked,  half-hesitatingly :  "Will  I  do, 
Cousin  Evelyn?" 


28  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

"Will  you  do  for  what?"  Miss  Weldon  let 
her  eyes  wander  from  the  bronze  hair  to  the  fault- 
lessly clad  feet  of  the  younger  girl,  and  a  palpable 
change  crossed  her  features. 

"  To  be  presented  to  your  friend,  Monsieur 
Deverell,"  replied  Hazel  confused,  and  then  deeply 
flushing  under  this  close  inspection. 

"I  presume  you  are  presentable,"  returned 
Evelyn  at  length ;  "  but,"  added  she  loftily,  "  you 
could  well  have  spared  your  toilet  this  unusual 
consideration,  as  Monsieur  Deverell  will  probably 
not  give  you  a  second  glance. —  What  are  you  going 
to  do  with  those  violets  ?  "  she  asked  abruptly,  as 
her  eyes  fell  upon  the  delicate  petals  in  Hazel's 
hand. 

"  I  have  brought  them  from  the  dell,  and  thought 
to  wear  them  at  my  throat,"  said  Hazel. 

"  Give  them  to  me  !  "  said  the  other  imperatively. 
"  You  are  much  too  young  for  superfluous  adorn- 
ment! Such  a  thought  means  vanity;  and  vanity 
in  a  child  is  more  than  absurd,  —  it  is  ridiculous  ! 
Besides,  plain  and  neat  attire,  without  embellish- 
ments of  any  sort,  would  be  more  befitting  a  girl  in 
your  position." 

Thus  speaking  she  took  the  flowers  from  the 
hesitating  hand.  Paying  no  heed  to  the  tear-laden 
eyes  she  continued:  "And  I  must  enjoin  you, 
Hazel,  do  not  make  yourself  conspicuous  tonight  in 
the  drawing-room, — as  you  generally  manage  to  do 
before  strangers, — by  introducing  your  book  of 


THE  ARRIVAL.  29 

sketches  ;  and  do  not  tell  monsieur  that  you  delight 
in  rowing,  and  will  take  him  for  a  sail  on  the  lake 
sometime.  All  this  is  child's  play  and  bores  one 
exceedingly,  as  I  have  before  told  you.  Monsieur 
Deverell  is  my  guest,  remember,  and  his  entertain- 
ment rests  with  me  alone." 

With  these  words  she  turned  and  swept  down 
the  corridor  toward  her  room,  leaving  Hazel  to 
descend  the  stairs  slowly,  with  lips  quivering  and 
eyes  suffused  with  tears,  —  tears  so  often  forced 
from  their  secret  wells  by  the  stinging  tongue  of  her 
cousin. 

In  the  hall  below  Hazel  encountered  her  aunt, 
who  was  on  her  way  to  the  dining-room.  Impul- 
sively she  threw  her  arms  about  Mrs.  Weldon's 
waist,  crying  as  she  did  so  :  "  Aunty,  I  would  like 
to  take  my  dinner  with  Arline  tonight!  Mayn't 
I  ?  Do  please  say  I  may !  " 

Wondering  at  the  girl's  vehement  manner,  Mrs. 
Weldon  gently  disengaged  the  clinging  hands,  and 
drew  her  pet  around  in  front  of  her. 

"  Why  this  new  caprice,  my  darling  ? "  asked 
she  tenderly;  and  then  the  troubled  face  was 
uplifted  to  her  own. 

"Because  —  because  —  oh  aunty,  I  had  rather 
—  I  had  rather  not."  Here  she  faltered,  sobbing 
softly. 

"  Why,  what  can  have  happened  to  you,  child  ? 
But  an  hour  ago  I  looked  into  the  garden,  and  saw 
you  with  a  face  as  glad  as  the  flowers,"  said  her 


30  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

aunt  in  alarm ;  "  but  there,  there  !  "  she  added,  — 
stooping  to  imprint  a  hasty  kiss  upon  the  bright 
hair,  as  she  suddenly  remembered  that  her  daugh- 
ter had  gone  upstairs  just  before,  and  was  perhaps 
accountable  for  Hazel's  grief,  —  "  you  may  go  to 
Arline's  room  if  you  prefer.  I  will  see  that  Sarah 
sends  up  a  cosy  dinner  which  you  may  enjoy 
together.  I  shall  miss  you  at  table,  darling;  but 
go,  if  you  would  be  happier  away." 

"Not  happier  away  from  you,  dear  aunty," 
whispered  Hazel.  Then  with  a  grateful  kiss  she 
bounded  upstairs,  and  away  to  the  governess's 
room,  where,  upon  Arline's  kindly  bosom,  she 
sobbed  away  her  grief,  and  was  soon  all  sunshine 
again. 


T 


CHAPTER   IV. 

LADY    OF    THE    LAKE. 

SWEET  is  the  breath  of  morn ;  her  rising  sweet 
With  charm  of  earliest  birds.    MILTON. 

HE  following  morning,  when,  as  the  poet  sings, 

Earliest  day 
Dappled  with  gold  the  eastern  ray, 

Hazel  arose.  She  was  Nature's  true  offspring,  and 
in  her  bosom  throbbed  the  power  of  sentimentality. 
Hence,  during  the  season  of  perfume  and  roses, 
she  could  never  think  of  allowing  Baby  Morn  to 
glide  away,  without  lingering  with  her  awhile  in 
some  favorite  resort. 

To  Hazel  the  flowers  smelled  far  sweeter  when 
empearled  with  dew,  and  the  wild  birds'  earliest 
song-notes  were  rife  with  clearer  melody  than 
when  the  day  had  grown  older.  Then,  too,  at 
sunrise  the  butterflies  came,  in  great  families, 
wearing  their  most  gorgeous  colors,  to  enjoy,  with 
her,  the  sweets  of  the  garden.  They  seemed  more 
numerous  than  ever  this  morning,  as  Hazel  entered 
their  fragrant  retreat,  —  looking  a  queen  among 
them,  as  she  hovered  over  a  tea-rosebush,  drinking 
in  the  fresh  aroma  of  the  flowers. 

She  presented  a  picture  of  youthful  loveliness, 
(31) 


32  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

to  which,  if  portrayed  on  canvas,  a  Titian  might 
have  given  pre-eminence  in  his  studies.  A  spir- 
ituelle  face  was  hers,  with  a  skin  whose  texture 
corresponded  with  the  delicate  heart  of  the  rose 
she  had  plucked,  and  which  she  now  devoured 
with  azure  eyes,  brimful  of  thoughtful  pathos. 
Her  lips,  slightly  parted,  glowed  a  rich  carmine, 
over  teeth  as  perfect  as  pearls.  Crowning  all  was 
her  glorious  hair,  the  sort  that  artists  rave  over,  — 
now  pure  gold,  now  a  true  chestnut  or  bronze,  as 
the  lights  and  shadows  played  upon  it. 

She  wore  a  light-blue  merino  dress  this  morning, 
of  the  Mother  Hubbard  design,  —  destitute  of  all 
trimming,  save  for  narrow  frills  of  white  lace  at 
throat  and  wrist.  This  modern  -  antique  frock, 
falling  in  loose  folds  from  the  breast,  kept  one  in 
ignorance  as  to  her  form ;  yet,  if  her  contour  was 
undefined,  her  every  movement  was  toned  with 
unconscious  grace,  which  the  very  naivete  of  her 
dress  made  the  more  irresistible ;  and  the  large 
rustic  hat,  which  she*  suffered  to  hang  carelessly 
over  her  shoulders,  rather  than  rest  on  her  head, 
was,  like  her  other  apparel,  en  rapport  with  her 
youthful  loveliness. 

Our  young  heroine  had  not  long  to  tarry  in  the 
garden  this  morning ;  as,  before  leaving  her  room, 
she  had  resolved  upon  going  down  to  the  lake, 
from  one  point  of  which  she  desired  to  sketch  a 
patch  of  water-lilies,  whose  development  she  had 
been  watching  for  several  days  past.  In  her  eyes 


LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.  33 

they  had  now  attained  the  height  of  perfection, 
and  rocked  on  the  clear  breast  of  waters,  a  beau- 
teous commingling  of  buds  and  blossoms,  —  their 
hues,  of  the  daintiest  pink  mingled  with  waxen- 
white,  their  whole  effect  softened  by  a  background 
of  dark,  broad,  heart-shaped  leaves. 

Under  one  arm  Hazel  carried  her  sketchbook; 
and  soon,  with  a  last  wistful  look  at  the  garden, 
she  hastened  away,  taking  her  course,  with  the 
floetness  of  a  fawn,  through  a  narrow  path  which 
divided  the  orchard,  leading  down  to  the  willows. 

The  happiest  hours  Hazel  could  remember  since 
her  advent  at  Weldon  Grange  had  been  passed  on 
the  placid  bosom  of  the  lake.  Here  she  was  wont 
to  sit  or  lie  by  the  hour  in  her  little  boat,  reading, 
drawing,  or  idly  dreaming,  and  allowing  the  gentle 
current  to  drift  her  hither  and  thither  at  will. 

Sometimes  she  would  not  loosen  the  boat  from 
its  fastening,  but  would  lie  therein,  beneath  the 
sheltering  willows.  Rocked  by  the  motion  of  the 
water,  and  charmed  by  the  notes  of  some  wild  bird 
overhead,  she  would  fall  asleep,  and  dream,  —  her 
head  pillowed  upon  Bijou,  her  one  inseparable 
companion. 

This  morning,  on  gaining  the  margin  of  the 
water,  Hazel  untied  her  boat.  Calling  the  dog, 
who  had  found  the  scent  and  followed  in  pursuit 
of  his  mistress,  they  both  jumped  aboard,  and 
IFa/.d  took  the  paddles  and  rowed  out,  making  a 
circuit  around  her  tuft  of  lilies.  There  was  hardly 


34  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

a  dimple  on  the  lake,  and  not  enough  breeze 
astir  to  render  the  boat  unsteady.  So,  having 
chosen  a  favorable  point  of  view,  she  abandoned 
the  oars,  opened  her  .sketchbook,  and  commenced 
tracing  delicate  lines  therein.  Deftly  her  white 
fingers  strayed  over  the  leaf,  as  with  rapid  glances 
she  interpreted  the  living  flowers  before  her.  So 
absorbed  did  she  become  in  her  work,  that  a 
sudden  sharp  growl  from  the  dog  caused  her  to 
start  with  such  violence  as  nearly  to  upset  the 
boat. 

The  pencil  fell  from  her  hand  as  she  directed 
her  glance  toward  the  bank,  whereon  Bijou's  eyes 
were  fixed  with  such  savage  interest,  while  he 
growled  continuously.  What  Hazel  saw  on  the 
edge  of  the  water  was  nothing  to  arouse  the  dog's 
protective  instincts.  It  was  only  a  tall  young 
man,  apparently  on  the  sunny  side  of  thirty,  with 
deep-hazel  eyes,  half-laughingly  and  half -seriously 
bent  upon  her,  and  a  white  hand  indolently  twist- 
ing the  corners  of  a  heavy,  brown  mustache,  while 
he  leaned  in  graceful  abandonment  against  a 
sapling. 

As  Hazel  met  his  steady  gaze,  across  the  short 
distance  intervening,  she  acknowledged  his  defer- 
ential, if  unduly  confident  bow,  with  the  slightest 
inclination  of  her  head.  The  next  moment,  how- 
ever, she  felt  the  hot  blood  rush  into  her  face 
and  throat ;  for  she  suddenly  remembered  the 
indiscretion  involved  in  speaking  to  a  perfect 


LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.  55 

stranger.  Thereupon  she  averted  her  face,  and  at 
once  resumed  pencil  and  sketchbook ;  but  all  was 
now  confusion.  She  had  forgotten  where  she  had 
left  off  drawing,  and  could  not  direct  her  eyes 
toward  her  study  with  any  deliberation,  being 
conscious,  the  while,  of  the  fixed  gaze  of  those 
masculine  eyes.  To  sit  idly  in  the  boat  would,  she 
knew,  be  extremely  awkward ;  so  putting  aside  her 
portfolio,  she  resumed  her  oars,  with  the  thought 
of  rowing  toward  the  opposite  embankment. 

"  There,"  she  resolved,  "  I  will  secure  my  boat, 
and  take  a  quiet  ramble  with  Bijou  in  search  of 
wild  flowers."  With  this  thought  she  glided 
onward,  with  the  adroitness  of  one  who  had  long 
been  used  to  the  water,  and  was  rapidly  widening 
the  distance  between  them,  when  there  came  an 
abrupt  shout  from  the  bank  behind  her. 

"  Mademoiselle  !  Mademoiselle !  "  called  the 
voice ;  and,  fully  confident  of  its  being  directed 
toward  herself,  Hazel  cast  a  quick  glance  over  her 
shoulder,  to  see  the  strange  gentleman  gesticulat- 
ing, and  beckoning  her  to  return. 

More  confused  than  surprised,  and  more  vexed 
than  pleased  at  this  new  freak  of  familiarity, 
she  rested  on  her  oars  irresolutely,  watching  the 
crystalline  beads  drip  from  their  blades.  Should 
she  return  ?  She  debated  this  question  hurriedly  in 
her  mind  for  a  moment.  Until  now  she  had  not 
given  the  gentleman's  identity  a  thought ;  but 
suddenly  it  flashed  upon  her  that  he  must  be 


36  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

Evelyn's  visitor  from  New  Orleans ;  whereupon 
she  deemed  it  her  duty  to  at  least  pay  him  due 
respect.  At  once  she  turned  her  graceful  head 
and  looked  at  him  again,  this  time  with  a  faint 
smile  beaming  from  her  eyes,  rather  than  lips. 

"  You  were  calling  me,  monsieur  ? "  she  cried 
out  half-timidly ;  and  her  voice  floated  like  a 
silvery  lute  to  Aubrey  Deverell  —  for  he  it  indeed 
was  —  across  the  tranquil  water,  breaking  in  upon 
the  birdsong  over  his  head,  like  a  silvery  lute. 

"  I  merely  desired  to  express  sincere  regrets 
to  mademoiselle  for  having  disturbed  her  at  her 
drawing.  Pray  resume  it,  and  I- will  leave  forth- 
with." Saying  this,  Aubrey  touched  his  hat  and 
bowed  with  profound  reverence,  as  Hazel  began 
rowing  toward  him. 

"Oh,  I  dare  say  the  lilies  will  remain  unmo- 
lested until  tomorrow  morning,  when  I  shall  finish 
sketching  them,"  she  returned  laughingly;  and 
then  she  added  half-shyly,  as  she  drew  very  near  the 
embankment  where  he  stood :  "I  presume  you 
are  Monsieur  Deverell,  my  cousin's  guest,  who 
arrived  yesterday  from  New  Orleans  ?  " 

"  I  have  that  honor,  mademoiselle,"  he  assented, 
again  bowing  low,  with  one  hand  upon  his  breast ; 
"  and  in  return  I  must  ask,"  he  added,  "-who  may 
be  this  fay  in  fairyland?"  He  bent  his  handsome 
eyes  upon  her  with  a  look  of  deep  admiration  as  he 
spoke,  —  a  look  which  sent  the  crimson  into  her 
cheeks,  and  caused  the  long  lashes  to  veil  a  pair  of 


LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.  37 

eyes  which  monsieur  thought  the  loveliest  he  had 
ever  beheld. 

"  Oh,  I  supposed  you  knew,  monsieur  !  I  am  only 
Hazel,"  she  replied,  trying  to  dispel  her  unwonted 
diffidence.  She  had  now  touched  the  shore,  and 
was  on  the  point  of  following  Bijou,  who  had 
bounded  from  the  boat  and  was  sniffing  suspiciously 
around  monsieur's  heels ;  but  suddenly  thinking 
that  her  new-formed  acquaintance  might  enjoy  a 
short  sail,  as  it  was  still  quite  early,  instead  of 
accepting  the  hand  proffered  to  assist  her  out  she 
asked  :  "  Do  you  enjoy  rowing,  Monsieur  Dev- 
erell  ?  If  so,  I  will  take  you  over  and  show  you 
my  beautiful  water-lilies." 

The  words  had  no  sooner  been  spoken  than  he 
was  beside  her  with  one  light  bound.  "  And  will 
mademoiselle  permit  me  ?  "  asked  he,  placing  his 
white  hands  upon  the  oars,  and  mentally  remarking 
upon  the  rare  loveliness  of  this  wee  Lady  of  the 
Lake,  who  freely  surrendered  them  to  him,  and  her 
seat  also,  herself  taking  the  place  in  front. 

"  Now,"  resumed  Monsieur  Aubrey,  as,  with  two 
deep  strokes,  he  cleared  the  bank  by  a  dozen  yards, 
"  you  tell  me  you  are  Hazel ;  but  is  not  this  a  little 
vague  ?  Will  you  not  say  Hazel  who  ?  " 

His  companion  was  laughing  gayly,  her  amuse- 
ment being  provoked  by  Bijou,  whom  they  had 
left  on  the  bank,  but  who  had  plunged  in  after 
them,  and  was  now  making  frantic  efforts  to  gain 
the  side  of  the  boat.  Being  questioned  thus,  her 


38  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

countenance  instantly  lost  its  mirth.  As  she 
looked  into  his  face,  he  saw  the  deep-blue  eyes 
were  full  of  hurt  surprise  and  disappointment. 

"  Why !  "  she  exclaimed,  "  has  neither  my  aunt 
nor  my  cousin  mentioned  me  in  your  presence  ?  I 
am  Hazel  Verne !  Mrs.  Weldon  is  my  aunty." 

Her  heart  grew  heavy  at  the  thought  that 
her  foster-mother  could  have  so  far  forgotten  her 
existence  as  not  to  name  her  to  Evelyn's  guest. 
"  After  all,  what  does  it  signify?"  she  continued. 
"A  mere  child  like  myself  can  be  of  little  interest 
to  you.  Doubtless  they  had  more  important  things 
to  talk  about." 

"  A  mere  child !  "  repeated  Aubrey,  amused  at 
her  words.  "  I  beg  to  venture,"  he  added,  "  that 
mademoiselle  has  seen  her  fourteenth  summer." 

"  I  was  fifteen  last  March,"  returned  the  young 
girl.  "  Cousin  Evelyn,  though,  looks  upon  me  as 
an  infant." 

"  But,"  continued  the  young  Frenchman,  with  a 
merry  twinkle  in  his  eye,  "  infants  do  not  sketch, 
and  row  themselves  about  on  the  water,  except  in 
fairy  tales.  Your  cousin's  idea  of  infancy  is  truly 
inconsistent."  At  this  they  both  laughed  heartily. 

"  But  do  not  allow  yourself  to  think  for  a 
moment,  my  wee  Lady  of  the  Lake,  —  may  I  so 
call  you  ?  "  he  added  playfully,  —  "  that  Madame 
Weldon  has  been  so  unmindful  of  you.  She 
mentioned  her  little  niece  to  me  several  times  last 
evening,  —  a  niece  who,  I  believe,  excused  herself 


LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.  39 

from  dinner  through  some  caprice,  but  to  whom  I 
should  be  presented  today.  I  have  heard  of  this 
same  niece  through  others  also ;  but,  strange  to 
say,  I  never  heard  her  name,  in  full,  until  within 
the  past  twenty  minutes.  Now,  you  see,  we  have 
escaped  the  formality  of  an  introduction,  and  thus 
stolen  a  march  on  Madame  Weldon  and  your 
cou  —  " 

"  Monsieur  Deverell !  Monsieur  Deverell !  " 
called  a  voice  from  an  unknown  quarter,  in  not 
altogether  placid  accents.  Looking  toward  the 
bank,  they  both  saw  a  white-clad  form  standing 
amidst  the  tufted  growth  of  ferns  and  grass 
bordering  the  water. 

"Ah  Mademoiselle  Evelyn,  bonjour!"  exclaimed 
Deverell,  gaily.  "  You  see,"  continued  he,  "  I  have 
made  myself  quite  a  hero  this  morning,  —  in  fact  a 
second  Knight  of  Snowdoun  ;  "  and  he  laughingly 
turned  to  his  fair  companion,  though  failing  to 
note  the  change  which  had  come  over  her  face, 
giving  it  a  half-terrified  look. 

Not  until  this  moment  had  Hazel  recalled  Eve- 
lyn's words  to  her  on  the  previous  evening :  "  Do 
not  invite  Monsieur  Deverell  for  a  sail  on  the 
lake !  "  These  words  now  were  blazoned  in 
memory  with  letters  of  flame.  The  startled  look 
deepened  in  her  eyes,  while  her  heart  suddenly 
grew  numb.  Hers  was  not  the  grayish  pallor 
which  had  settled  upon  Miss  Weldon's  counte- 
nance, as  she  encountered  the  pretty  picture  on 


40  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

the  lake;  for  Evelyn  clenched  her  hands  in  the 
fury  that  seized  her,  and  the  feeling  of  antipathy 
toward  her  foster-sister  deepened  into  scalding 
gall,  which  seemed  to  rise  in  her  throat  and 
strangle  her.  She  grew  dizzy,  and  mistily  heard 
Deverell's  jocular  words,  as  she  would  have  heard 
them  in  a  dream. 

She  soon  mastered  her  outward  perturbation, 
however.  She  had  exerted  all  her  skill,  this 
morning,  to  render  herself  doubly  fascinating  in 
the  eyes  of  her  visitor,  and  she  would  not  suffer  a 
mere  chit,  like  Hazel,  to  undo  her  artistic  work ; 
for  she  was  fully  conscious  of  her  own  success  at 
the  toilet.  Evelyn  wore  a  close-fitting  robe  of 
pearl-white  texture,  graced  with  endless  falls  of 
foamy  lace,  with  white  satin  bows  interspersed. 
A  cluster  of  white  rosebuds  were  half-buried  in 
the  jabot  of  lace  at  her  throat,  while  a  single  bud 
nestled  amid  the  luxuriant  meshes  of  her  hair. 
She  looked  a  very  goddess  of  purity,  but  in  truth 
she  was  like  the  flower  which  bears  a  gnawing 
canker  at  its  heart,  threatening  its  destruction. 

By  the  time  Aubrey  and  Hazel  had  come  ashore, 
Evelyn  appeared  an  utter  stranger  to  anger.  She 
extended  a  lily  hand  to  the  gentleman,  with  one  of 
her  most  benignant  smiles,  —  and  with  just  enough 
color  in  her  cheeks  to  render  her  perfect,  in 
attractiveness. 

"  Breakfast  is  served,  monsieur,  and  I  have 
been  scouring  the  premises  in  search  of  you,"  said 


LADY   OF  THE  LAKE.  41 

she,  as  he  deliberately  secured  the  boat  to  a  willow 
bough.  "  We  will  go  to  the  house  at  once,  as 
mamma  is  waiting."  Then,  as  she  accepted  his 
proffered  arm,  she  laughingly  added :  "  So  you 
have  proven  a  second  James  Fitz- James !  " 

"  And  my  little  Lady  of  the  Lake,  —  how  fair  a 
fay  is  she !  "  returned  Aubrey,  in  a  tone  which, 
despite  its  playfulness,  had  a  shade  of  seriousness 
in  it.  He  failed  to  see  the  sidelong  glance  directed 
from  the  accusing  black  eyes  toward  Hazel,  —  a 
glance  which  flustered  the  young  girl's  heart,  and 
buried  itself  therein  like  a  poisoned  arrow. 


CHAPTER  V. 

SNAPPING  UP  TRIFLES. 

THINK  naught  a  trifle,  though  it  small  appear ; 
Small  sands,  the  mountain ;  moments  make  the  year ; 
And  trifles,  life.    YOUNG. 

WELDON  GRANGE  boasted  of  many  apart- 
ments ;  but  few  were  so  bright  and  alluring 
as  the  spacious  morning-room,  with  its  lofty  ceiling 
of  polished  oak,  and  its  elaborately  carved  wainscot, 
with  alternate  oak  and  walnut  panelling.  Abroad 
and  deep-set  oriel  window  at  the  east  end  admitted 
golden  floods  of  sunlight,  while  another,  its  vis-a- 
vis, overlooked  the  garden,  and  the  tennis-lawn 
beyond. 

The  appointments  of  this  room  were  very 
tasteful.  The  furniture  was  of  carved  walnut, 
upholstered  with  vermilion  and  gold  damask,  and 
the  graceful  window  drapings  bore  the  same  warm 
colors.  Through  the  plate-glass  doors  of  a  massive 
sideboard  an  endless  array  of  crystal,  silver,  and 
Sevres  china  glittered  and  flashed;  and  all  the 
minor  details,  the  pictures  and  bricabrac,  were  in 
keeping  with  the  luxury  which  reigned  throughout 
the  room. 

Breakfast  was  served.  Buttered  toast,  fried 
(42) 


SNAPPING    UP   TRIFLES.  43 

chicken,  steaming  coffee,  were  sending  forth  an 
aroma  so  delicious  as  to  tempt  the  palate  of  an 
epicure. 

"  Though  I  have  already  trespassed  upon  your 
orchard  this  morning,  Madame  Weldon,"  said 
Deverell,  falling  a  ready  victim  to  the  charms  of 
snowy  damask,  and  leisurely  peeling  an  orange,  "  I 
can  yet  enjoy  another  of  these  delightful  Navals. 
They  are  unparalleled  in  flavor." 

As  neither  of  the  ladies  offered  to  join  him,  he 
added :  "  I  fear  you  natives  of  this  floral  land 
fail  to  fully  appreciate  the  luxuries  about  you.  — 
Ah !  Ma  petite  Ellen  Douglas  will  have  one, 
surely,"  he  continued  to  Hazel,  who  murmured  a 
low,  "  Thanks,  yes,  monsieur ; "  and  then  she 
turned  alternately  white  and  red,  as  he  prepared 
the  fruit,  for  she  was  conscious,  the  while,  of  her 
cousin's  burning  eyes  fixed  upon  her,  and  secretly 
wondering  if  she  had  been  guilty  of  another  mis- 
demeanor, in  accepting  this  little  attention. 

Mrs.  Weldon's  smile  reassured  her,  however,  and 
the  orange  lost  none  of  its  sweet  flavor  because  of 
that  acrid  glance. 

Breakfast  passed  off  merrily.  At  its  conclusion 
Evelyn  proposed  a  horseback  ride,  to  which 
Monsieur  Aubrey,  being  a  modern  centaur,  readily 
assented. 

"  We  will  take  a  canter  over  to  Fairacre," 
continued  Miss  Weldon.  "That  is  papa's  rice 
plantation,  and  lies  about  six  miles  northward  in 


44  THE   DEATH  TRUST. 

the  river  valley.  The  road  leads  through  alternate 
woods  and  dells,  and  is  considered  one  of  the 
prettiest  in  the  country.  You  shall  ride  Don 
Carlos,  monsieur.  He  is  a  spirited  stepper,  and 
father's  pet.  He  has  not  been  saddled  since  his 
master  went  away,  but  you  will  find  him  docile 
and  manageable." 

The  proper  order  was  forthwith  despatched  to 
Noel,  the  hostler,  to  saddle  Alcides  and  Don  Carlos 
with  all  possible  speed. 

"  The  morning  is  simply  perfect,  and  should  be 
made  the  most  of,  you  know,"  Evelyn  added,  with 
one  of  her  most  alluring  smiles,  as  they  arose  from 
table.  "  You  may  take  a  turn  about  the  grounds, 
monsieur,  while  I  don  my  habit ;  or,  if  you  would 
prefer  reading,  you  will  find  the  late  Tallahassee 
and  Jacksonville  papers  in  the  library." 

Waving  him  a  temporary  adieu  with  her  jewelled 
hand,  as  they  turned  into  the  wide  hall,  she  said 
something  softly  to  her  mother,  and  the  two 
ascended  the  stairs  together,  Mrs.  Weldon  first 
stopping  to  take  leave  of  Hazel,  before  the  girl 
went  to  the  schoolroom  for  her  daily  studies. 

As  Mrs.  Weldon  followed  to  her  daughter's 
room,  she  was  full  of  secret  wonder  as  to  what 
Evelyn  might  wish  to  say  to  her  so  privately.  She 
was  not  kept  long  in  suspense.  No  sooner  had  the 
door  closed  behind  them  than  Evelyn  abruptly 
faced  her  mother,  and  said,  with  the  fierceness  of 
one  who  has  long  restrained  her  anger  :  "  Why 


SNAPPING    UP    TRIFLES.  45 

do  you  permit  that  girl  to  stray  about  the  grounds 
so  early  in  the  morning,  without  her  governess  ?  " 

Mrs.  Weldon  stood  utterly  confounded.  She 
suffered  her  daughter  to  talk  on  with  no  attempt 
at  stopping  her  tongue. 

"  You  are  blind  to  her  insolence  and  cunning ! 
She  was  up  at  daybreak  this  morning,  and  went 
down  to  the  lake,  under  pretence  of  sketching. 
Really  her  design  was  to  risk  a  romantic  meeting 
with  Monsieur  Devercll.  It  was  only  last  night 
that  I  charged  her  not  to  invite  my  guest  to  row. 
She  did  not  even  wait  for  an  opportunity  to  defy 
me,  but  deliberately  sought  one.  How  successfully 
her  mischievous  scheme  has  resulted,  you  can  see 
for  yourself!"  She  paused,  panting,  her  angry 
eyes  riveted  on  her  mother' s  face,  which  was 
undergoing  a  convulsion  of  pain. 

"  My  daughter,  —  Evelyn  dear !  "  she  faltered  at 
length,  "  I  fear  you  are  a  snapper  up  of  unconsid- 
ered  trifles,  as  the  poet  puts  it." 

"  Trifles  indeed  !  This  is  no  trine  !  "  retorted 
the  daughter,  her  temper  increasing  with  every 
word.  "  On  the  contrary,  it  is  a  matter  of  material 
concern  to  me.  That  child  shall  be  made  to 
answer  for  her  impertinent  conduct.  The  little 
wretch !  "  Evelyn  ended  her  speech  with  an 
emphatic  stamp  of  her  foot  upon  the  carpet, 

It  was  something  extraordinary  for  even  this 
arrogant  girl  to  give  vent  to  such  violent  words, 
and  Mrs.  Weldon  heard  this  epithet  applied  to  her 


46  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

beloved  foster-child  with  wounded  surprise,  which 
revealed  itself  in  every  line  of  her  countenance- 
She  winced  with  inward  pain,  and  compressed  her 
lips  in  order  to  stay  the  severe  rebuke  which  rose  in 
her  thoughts ;  for  she  believed  calm  reasoning  to 
be  best. 

Presently  she  said,  at  the  same  time  passing  one 
gentle  arm  about  her  daughter 's  waist :  "  Dear 
one,  you  do  Hazel  great  injustice.  I  am  confident 
her  meeting  with  Monsieur  Deverell  was  purely 
accidental.  It  is  her  custom  to  be  out  these 
fine  mornings,  running  about  the  grounds  before 
the  rest  of  us  are  awake.  From  such  innocent 
pleasures  I  would  be  the  very  last  to  restrain  her ; 
for  in  her  sentimental  appreciation  of  the  gifts  of 
Nature  she  but  inherits  the  healthful  constitution 
of  the  Vernes.  I  remember  the  golden  days  of  my 
own  youth,  when  Sister  Lydia  and  myself  were 
happy  in  roaming  the  dewy  pastures,  ere  the  sun 
had  warmed  the  sleeping  flowers  into  life.  We 
tried  to  outshine  each  other  in  the  number  of 
butterflies  we  could  count,  fluttering  in  the  space 
about  us,  or  balancing  themselves  to  sip  the  sweet 
drops  from  the  blossoms.  I  heartily  wish  that 
you,  my  daughter,  had  been  endowed  wTith  a  sunny 
nature  similiar  to  that  which  made  my  own  child- 
hood and  girlhood  so  golden.  Then  there  would 
be  the  link  of  harmony  between  yourself  and  your 
orphaned  cousin,  which  is  now  sadly  lacking." 

There  was  no  softening  in  the  impassioned  face 


sxsti'r/\f;  n>  TRIFLE*.  47 

turned  toward  the  open  window,  through  which 
stole  the  gentle  morning  breeze,  fanning  the  soft 
lace  curtains,  and  breathing  sweet  odors  from  the 
garden  below. 

During  a  few  moments  of  silence  Evelyn  tugged 
nervously  at  one  of  the  satin  bows  on  her  dress, 
until  finally  the  little  ornament  became  detached 
from  its  resting-place  amidst  the  lace,  and  fell  to 
the  floor.  She  looked  at  it,  and  then  planted  her 
foot  upon  it  contemptuously,  —  for  all  the  world 
as  if  it  had  been  one  of  those  fragile  insects  referred 
to  by  her  mother,  which  she  would  gladly  crush 
in  wanton  cruelty,  because  she  must  have  some- 
thing to  vent  her  spite  upon. 

"  Am  I  to  be  held  responsible  for  my  disposition, 
which,  doubtless,  is  to  be  deplored  for  its  barbaric 
common-sense  ?  "  Evelyn  asked  abruptly,  and  with 
strong  irony.  She  added,  a  bitter  smile  curving 
her  lips,  "  Had  I  inherited  your  romantic  and  per- 
fect characteristics,  thus  gratifying  your  motherly 
ambition,  even  then  I  might  have  found  it  difficult 
to  consort  daily  with  one  who  has  usurped  my 
place  in  my  father 's  affections,  —  an  impostor !  " 

Evelyn  articulated  the  last  words  with  malicious 
emphasis.  Mrs.  Weldon's  face  blanched,  and  her 
lips  were  purple  with  the  intensity  of  the  pain  she 
suffered,  as  she  dropped  into  the  nearest  chair. 

"Evelyn,"  she  wailed  piteously,  as  tears  filled 
her  eyes,  "  this  is  merciless  in  you !  It  is  disre- 
spectful to  me,  and  cruelly  unjust  to  your  absent 


48  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

father,  who  loves  you  completely,  unselfishly. 
Such  viciousness  amounts  almost  to  crime  toward 
an  innocent  and  defenceless  child  !  I  used  to  think, 
Evy,"  she  sobbed  brokenly,  "  I  used  to  think,  when 
you  were  a  little  girl  on  my  knee,  that  naught  but 
the  noblest  of  traits  were  wrapped  up  in  the  heart 
of  my  loving  and  tender  rosebud-idol.  I  watched 
that  bud  expand  from  day  to  day,  guarding  it, 
dwelling  upon  its  perfectness,  as  only  a  mother  can 
dote  upon  her  only  child;  but  beneath  my  very 
eyes,  the  flower  of  my  bosom  has  developed  a 
moral  cancer.  In  some  mysterious  way  my  treasure 
has  been  transformed  into  a  rude  cactus,  prickly 
toward  the  parent  who  gave  her  birth,  ready  to  crush 
the  hearts  which  love  and  trust  her  implicitly, 
ready  to  defile  her  own  lips  with  odious  sentences ! 
Oh  God,  I  am  so  disappointed  in  my  child! " 

Her  frame  shook  tumultuously.  Her  face  was 
in  her  hands.  Through  the  fingers  tears  rained 
thick  and  fast,  falling  upon  the  light  fabric  of  her 
dress,  and  moistening  it. 

The  cause  of  this  sorrow  stood  by  with  mute 
lips,  her  "tall  form  erect  in  statuesque  severity. 
She  stood  thus  for  some  time ;  but  at  length,  as  if 
her  stony  pride  were  gradually  overruled  by  better 
feeling,  a  new  flush  overspread  her  fair  skin,  while 
the  angry  and  defiant  look  in  her  eyes  gave  place 
to  a  softening  moisture.  Her  proud  lips  quivered 
perceptibly,  as  she  took  first  one  step  and  then 
another  toward  her  weeping  parent. 


SNAPPING    UP  TRIFLES.  49 

"  Mother !  "  she  whispered,  falling  softly  upon 
her  knees  beside  the  bent  form,  and  twining 
repentant  arms  about  her  mother's  neck.  "  Forgive 
me,  dear!  I  did  not  mean,  —  I  have  never  been 
intentionally  cruel  to  you,  darling.  I  love  you 
devotedly.  There,  there,  do  n't  weep !  " 

Evelyn  took  her  own  handkerchief,  a  tiny  square 
of  filmy  lace,  and  dried  the  wet  cheeks  and  lashes 
with  tendered  care.  Then  pressing  a  kiss  upon 
the  nervous  lips,  —  a  lingering  kiss,  teeming  with 
the  warmth  of  filial  affection,  —  she  continued,  as 
she  laid  her  head  upon  the  heaving  bosom,  in 
which  a  new  happiness  was  kindling :  "  If  you 
have  been  disappointed  in  me,  mamma,  if  I  have 
fallen  short  of  your  parental  ambitions,  pray  do 
not  hold  me  altogether  responsible  for  my  short- 
comings, which  are  legion ;  I  know,  dear,  and  you 
know,  we  do  not  have  the  shaping  of  our  own 
characters  or  lives.  They  are  the  work  of  Des- 
tiny, —  at  least  in  part." 

How  many  years  had  intervened  since  that 
queenly  head  had  been  laid  in  love's  abandonment 
upon  the  maternal  bosom,  as  it  now  lay?  How 
many  years  since  heart  had  thus  been  pressed  to 
heart  ?  It  seemed  a  century  to  Mrs.  Weldon,  as 
her  tears  of  happy  thanksgiving  fell  upon  the 
bands  of  dark  hair  which  she  smoothed  so  ten- 
derly, whispering:  "My  darling,  my  only  love! 
You  are  dearer  to  me  than  the  whole  world 
beside ! " 


50 


THE  DEATH  TRUST. 


The  interval  had  seemed  long ;  but  in  truth  it 
was  only  four  years.  The  day  which  brought 
Hazel  Verne  to  the  Grange  had  marked  the  change 
in  Evelyn.  It  was  then  that  the  evil  had  been 
born  in  the  heart  of  the  flower,  —  the  flower  in 
which  centred  so  many  parental  hopes  and 
prayers.  » 


CHAPTER  VI. 

BENEATH    THE    PINES. 

SONGS  shall  be  heard  as  long  as  fields  are  green, 
And  skies  are  blue,  and  woman's  face  is  fair. 

SMITH. 

AS  Aubrey  paced  slowly  down  the  magnolia 
avenue,  mounted  upon  the  beautiful  black 
steed,  Don  Carlos,  Evelyn  tripped  jauntily  down 
the  front  steps,  equipped  for  her  morning  canter. 
The  long  folds  of  her  olive-green  skirt  were 
thrown  with  careless  grace  over  one  arm;  and  a 
perfect-fitting  basque  of  rich  velvet,  a  shade  or 
two  darker  than  the  skirt,  outlined  her  exquisite 
figure ;  while  a  pearl-handled  whip  completed  the 
outfit,  and  gave  her  a  Di  Vernon  air,  which  her 
mirror  had  told  her  would  prove  irresistible  to  her 
waiting  knight.  A  long  ostrich  plume,  corre- 
sponding in  shade  with  her  habit,  caught  up  her 
wide-brimmed  hat  on  the  left  side,  curled  back- 
ward over  the  heavy  coils  of  her  hair,  and  then 
gave  a  capricious  sweep  downward  to  the  shoulder, 
thus  lending  to  Evelyn's  face  a  sort  of  gypsy 
beauty,  which  rendered  her  doubly  fascinating. 

As  Deverell  paced  up  to  the  mounting-block  she 
saw  the  look  of  undeniable  admiration  in  his  eyes, 
and  her  heart  beat  with  a  thrill  of  triumph.     He 
(51) 


52  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

alighted  in  order  to  assist  her  to  the  saddle,  pay- 
ing her  a  softly  spoken  compliment  as  he  did  so, 
to  which  Evelyn  replied  blushing,  —  not  with 
diffidence,  but  with  increase  of  joy:  "Thanks, 
monsieur !  I  am  so  glad  you  are  pleased." 

The  folds  of  her  skirt  being  properly  adjusted 
Aubrey  remounted  Don  Carlos,  and  away  the 
handsome  pair  rode,  each  happy,  as  only  the 
spirit  of  youth  can  be,  which  has  known  naught  of 
the  world's  deeper  sorrows. 

Evelyn  had  forgotten  her  recent  annoyance,— 
had  forgotten  even  that  moment  of  confidence 
with  her  mother.  For  this  seeming  callousness  let 
no  one  censure  her  too  severely,  insomuch  as  some 
day,  in  the  dim,  dim  past, — a  day  perhaps  forgotten, 
—  the  reader  may  have  had  one  thought,  one  joyful 
anticipation,  which  shut  out  all  others  from  the 
heart,  as  the  picture  of  a  golden  day,  spent  in  the 
society  of  this  young  Frenchman,  barred  Evelyn's 
memory  to  all  else  on  earth. 

She  mastered  her  peerless  Alcides  with  such 
adroitness  as  to  win  repeated  compliments  from 
her  companion  ;  and  Monsieur  Deverell  well  knew 
how  to  frame  a  pretty  compliment,  albeit  he  had 
no  flattering  tongue,  and  owed  his  manner  of 
doing  homage  to  the  fair  sex  wholly  to  heredity. 

With  him  Evelyn  manifested  no  likeness  to  the 
ice-plant.  On  the  contrary,  she  was  one  perpetual 
torrent  of  life  and  animation.  Though  his  admir- 
ing speeches  acted  like  wine  upon  her,  making  the 


BENEATH  THE  PINES,  53 

blood  come  into  her  cheeks  and  rapture  sparkle  in 
her  eye,  —  though  they  thrilled  her  inmost  soul  with 
ecstacy  unspeakable, —  she  neither  grew  sentimental 
nor  stupidly  serious,  as  the  lovelorn  are  apt  to  do, 
but  almost  matched  Aubrey  himself  in  brilliancy  of 
repartee. 

It  was  indeed  a  perfect  morning.  The  sky  was 
"deeply,  darkly,  exquisitely  blue,"  without  the 
faintest  cloud-drift  visible.  The  air  was  sweet 
with  the  elixir  of  ripening  fruit,  and  vibrated  with 
the  wild  bird's  joyous  notes.  There  was  just 
enough  breeze  afloat  to  fan  Evelyn's  plumes  into 
coquettish  play,  and  make  the  horses  move  with  its 
exhilaration. 

Leaving  the  estate,  and  entering  the  open  country 
road,  the  animals  broke  away  into  a  spirited  gallop, 
as  they  emerged  abruptly  from  a  shady  amphitheatre 
into  an  open  and  sunlit  glade.  Evelyn  indicated 
the  different  points  of  interest  as  they  rode  on,  but 
secretly  wondered  if  her  companion  would  never 
take  up  the  thread  of  their  acquaintance  where  it 
had  been  dropped  in  New  Orleans,  a  few  months 
before,  and  tell  her  how  he  had  treasured  the  rose- 
bud he  had  taken  from  her  hair  ;  but  the  rosebud 
was  not  destined  that  day  to  be  resurrected  by 
Aubrey  from  the  grave  of  the  past.  The  briefly 
happy  winter  they  had  passed  together  in  the 
Crescent  City,  though  once  or  twice  alluded  to  by 
monsieur,  was  mentioned  casually,  and  in  tones 
strangely  at  variance  with  a  lover's. 


54  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

Once,  after  they  had  gained  the  river-valley, 
and  were  trotting  leisurely  through  a  section  of 
pine-land,  the  young  Frenchman  drew  his  rein 
abruptly,  and  looked  up  at  the  bough-entangled 
roof  above,  —  so  dense  that  only  a  golden  lance  of 
sunlight  shot  through  it  here  and  there.  What  a 
secluded  home  of  Nature  was  this !  Here  fair 
Flora  smiled  apace,  and  Evelyn's  heart  throbbed 
jubilantly.  At  their  feet  grew  ox-eyed  daisies, 
pale  forget-me-nots,  and  wood-violets  in  luxuri- 
ance, amid  thick-tufted  green.  Massive  clusters 
of  fern  nestled  against  sturdy  pine-trunks,  while 
graceful  bluebells  stood  guard,  and  nodded  glee- 
fully at  each  other.  In  another  spot  flourished  the 
frail  maideaa-hair,  and  within  the  embrasure  of  its 
delicate  shadow  the  gentle  anemone  looked  coyly 
up,  and  breatheli  sweet  incense  on  the  air ;  while 
overhead  unceasingly  warbled  the  birds,  as  if 
especially  engaged  by  Flora  to  furnish  music  for 
her  festival. 

Into  monsieur's  brown  eyes  there  crept  a  light 
of  reverence  ;  and  his  heart  beat  appreciatively,  as 
he  gazed  speechless  upon  this  celestial  scene. 
Those  who  knew  Aubrey  best  assured  him  that  he 
was  designed  for  an  artist.  If  so,  he  had  evaded 
his  calling;  not  wholly,  however,  for,  though  he 
could  not  have  delineated  the  simplest  leaf  or  bud 
upon  canvas,  his  heart  vibrated  with  boundless  love 
for  every  tribute  of  Nature's  hand.  lie  could  see 
character  in  the  flowers,  poetry  in  the  cloven  sea 


BENEATH  THE  PINES.  55 

of  foliage  ;  and  he  could  have  fallen  devoutly  to 
his  knees  then  and  there,  worshipping  the  great 
Creator  in  a  song  of  praise. 

All  the  gladness  of  Aubrey's  being  found  voice 
in  music.  His  whole  soul  was  the  sleeping-place 
of  mystic  chords,  which  lay  ready  to  awaken  at  a 
moment's  bidding.  They  awoke  now.  On  the 
fragrant  air  his  voice  rose  trembling,  first  in  low, 
sweet  strains,  as  if  deft  fingers  were  straying  over 
invisible  harp-strings.  Then  the  sound  increased, 
swelling  into  clarion  tones,  which  woke  the  distant 
hills  into  a  grand  chorus  of  echoes.  Presently 
his  voice  fell  again,  and  finally  died  into  a  whisper, 
like  the  murmuring  wind. 

This  was  not  the  first  time  his  singing  had 
electrified  the  soul  of  Evelyn  Weldon ;  and 
now  she  sat  like  one  spellbound,  with  a  face  on 
which  was  written  a  whole  page  of  adoration  for 
the  man  beside  her. 

Monsieur  had  chosen  an  air  from  Schubert, 
and  the  words  were  an  offering  to  the  Queen  of 
Nature.  The  composer  could  not  have  felt  more 
keenly  in  writing  than  did  Deverell  in  singing 
these  strains,  which  echoed  his  heart's  truest 
sentiment ;  and  when  he  had  finished  the  song 
there  were  tears  in  his  eyes. 

With  a  smile,  born  of  the  unutterable  happiness 
he  experienced,  he  bent  a  look  upon  his  compan- 
ion, and  noticed  that  her  eyes  also  were  dim 
with  tears.  Evelyn  averted  her  face.  With  a 


56  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

quick  and  impulsive  gesture  she  brushed  the 
drops  away,  as  if  ashamed  of  such  weakness. 

The  air  was  now  solemnly  hushed  and  still. 
Even  the  birdnotes  had  ceased  at  the  warning  of 
that  new  voice. 

"  Monsieur,"  said  Evelyn  presently,  "  you  have 
even  put  the  birds  to  shame.  Truly  you  ought  to 
prize  such  power !  You  could  move  the  hardest 
heart,  I  believe  !  " 

Aubrey  slightly  bowed  his  head,  with  the  defer- 
ence due  to  this  plain-spoken  praise  ;  but  the  voice 
of  praise  having  been  so  long  familiar  to  his  ear, 
he  did  not  feel  flattered,  and  replied,  with  that 
quiet  gravity  which  became  him  so  well :  "  If 
mademoiselle  appreciates  my  song,  it  is  enough. 
My  heart  would  burst,  it  seems  to  me  at  times, 
could  I  not  breathe  out  in  song  some  of  the 
sentiment  which  pulsates  within.  Such  beautiful 
scenes  as  the  one  now  stretching  out  before  us 
never  fail  to  snatch  me  into  the  lyric  mood.  —  How 
lovely  are  those  wood- violets  !  "  he  added  abruptly. 
They  remind  me  of  your  Cousin  Hazel's  eyes! 
What  a  sweet,  sunny  character  is  hers  !  As  they 
commenced  to  ride  on  again  at  a  slow  pace,  lie 
quoted  those  words  from  Longfellow's  poem  on 

Maidenhood : 

Standing  with  reluctant  feet, 
Where  the  brook  and  river  meet. 

Miss  Weldon  gave  her  bridle  a  sudden  and  im- 
petuous jerk,  causing  Alcides  to  prick  up  his  ears 


BENEATH  THE  PINES.  57 

and  quicken  his  trot  to  a  canter.  Aubrey,  hardly 
remarking  her  silence,  —  or  her  action,  small  in 
itself,  yet  eloquent  of  secret  disquiet,  —  continued, 
in  the  same  subdued  but  ardent  tone :  "  She 
reminds  me,  not  a  little,  of  your  mother.  Indeed, 
I  would  sooner  take  her  for  madame's  daughter 
than  yourself." 

With  the  inward  conflict  waxing  stronger,  yet 
with  a  successful  attempt  at  outward  calm,  Evelyn 
rejoined  :  "  It  is  singular  that  people  should  fancy 
a  likeness  between  mamma  and  her  foster-child, 
when,  in  truth,  there  is  no  family — "  She 
abruptly  checked  herself,  biting  her  lips  until  the 
blood  almost  started  from  them.  Aubrey  gazed  at 
her  in  silent  winder ;  arid  Evelyn,  feeling  this, 
flushed  and  paled  beneath  his  glance ;  while  at  the 
same  moment  a  nefarious  resolve  formed  itself  in 
her  bosom. 

At  length  she  turned  towards  him.  Meeting  his 
gaze  boldly  she  said,  in  tones  wherein  there  was  no 
shrinking :  «  What  I  was  about  to  say,  monsieur, 
is  strictly  confidential." 

The  young  Frenchman  bowed  assent,  as  a  look 
of  deepening  interest  settled  on  his  handsome 
face. 

"  Hazel  Verne,"  continued  his  companion,  "  is 
only  mamma's  niece  by  adoption."  A  flutter  of 
suppressed  triumph  pervaded  her  words ;  but  this 
monsieur  failed  to  notice.  "A  niece  by  adop- 
tion !  "  he  ejaculated.  "  Mademoiselle,  I  think, — I 
hardly  understand, — " 


58  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

"  It  is  easily  explained,"  remarked  the  other,  with 
a  laugh  which  sounded  like  an  evil  omen  under 
that  green  canopy,  and  in  contrast  with  the  sweet 
perfume  of  blossoms  and  the  happy  song  of  birds 
about  them,  —  a  laugh  which  struck  undefined 
dread  to  the  Frenchman's  soul.  "  What  does  that 
laugh  portend?"  was  his  unspoken  query. 

This  laugh  was  followed  by  these  words,  uttered 
in  the  same  half-exultant  tone  :  "  Hazel  was  my 
Uncle  Henry  Verne's  adopted  child.  As  a  dying 
charge  he  gave  her  into  the  keeping  of  my 
mother." 

A  deep  frown  knit  itself  in  Aubrey's  brows. 
"Has  this  young  girl  been  kept  in  ignorance  as 
to  her  birth?"  he  questioned  gravely.  "If  so,  it 
has  been  a  grievous  wrong  toward  her,  which  is 
certain  to  end  in  bitterness." 

"  Your  question  calls  for  a  lengthy  story,  Mon- 
sieur Deverell,  —  which  I  had  rather  not  narrate, 
when  there  is  so  much  pleasant  diversion  for  us." 

This  she  said  with  feigned  regret,  for  thus  to 
relate  Hazel  Verne's  history  had  become  all  at  once 
a  fixed  resolve ;  yet  in  doing  this,  how  unconscious 
was  Evelyn  that  she  was  deliberately  setting  fire  to 
the  sweetest  air-castle  woman's  fancy  ever  builded ! 
Little  did  she  know  that  she  was  about  to  seal  her 
own  bitter  doom !  Thus  it  was ;  though  with  no 
forecast  of  the  fatal  result  she  went  on  desperately : 
"  You  shall  hear  the  story,  —  under  a  pledge  of 
secrecy  however,  as,  outside  our  immediate  family, 


BENEATH  THE  PINES.  59 

you  are  the  first  to  whom  the  truth  has  been 
confided.  Even  Aunt  Lydia  Seymour  is  ignorant 
of  it." 

"  Then  I  must  insist,"  began  the  gentleman 
deprecatingly, —  for  the  Deverell  sense  of  honor 
was  genuine,  and  Aubrey  recoiled  from  words  not 
designed  for  his  ear ;  yet  at  Evelyn's  imperative 
words,  "  Yes,  monsieur,  I  have  already  unveiled 
the  main  truth ;  and  now  you  shall  hear  the 
related  facts,"  he  sat  like  one  under  a  spell,  and 
hearkened  to  the  story. 


CHAPTER    VII. 

BETEAYAL. 

EVERY  true  woman's  Ibreast  yearns  for  the  caress  of  baby- 
fingers,  just  as  surely  as  the  true  woman's  heart  holds  the 
priceless  jewel  of*  mother-love. 

((  "T^OUR  years  ago,"  began  Miss  Weldon, 
1  "  mamma  received  a  telegram  from  her  only 
brother,  Henry  Verne,  summoning  her  to  his 
deathbed,  in  Memphis,  Tennessee.  The  startling 
news  nearly  cost  dear  mamma  her  own  life,  as 
she  was  devotedly  attached  to  her  brother;  and 
though  several  years  had  passed  since  she  had 
received  special  news  of  him,  she  was  totally 
unprepared  for  the  shock. 

"  She  rallied,  however,  and  went  North  imme- 
diately, to  Memphis,  reaching  there  only  in  time 
to  hear  a  dying  statement  from  Uncle  Henry's 
lips. 

"  He  was  not,  strictly  speaking,  an  affectionate 

brother.     Hence  the  protracted  silence  which  he 

had  maintained  towards  his    sister.      Meanwhile 

he  had  married  a  young  Memphis  lady,  —  heiress 

.to  nothing  but  a  beautiful  face.     Being  a  successful 

financier,    uncle  did  not  allow  her  want  of  dower 

to    interfere    with  their    domestic   felicity,  which 

was    complete,   until  the    lapse   of    several    years 

(60) 


BETRAYAL.  61 

found  them  still  childless.  Then  the  young  wife 
fell  into  a  decline,  rendering  change  of  climate 
necessary.  They  travelled  extensively,  visiting  all 
parts  of  Europe  and  America,  but  without  gain 
to  Mrs.  Verne's  health.  Despairingly  my  uncle 
returned  to  Memphis,  with  his  slowly  but  surely 
dying  wife. 

"  It  was  about  midnight,  on  the  evening  of  their 
return,  when  they  were  both  startled  from  sleep  by 
a  strange  cry,  repeated  again  and  again.  Going 
to  the  front  part  of  the  house,  whence  the  noise 
seemed  to  come,  Uncle  Henry  opened  the  door 
and  looked  out. 

"  It  was  a  wild  winter 's  night,  and  snow  lay 
thickly  on  the  steps ;  but  there,  against  the 
gleaming  white,  he  saw  something  dark,  which 
proved  to  be  a  bundle.  This  he  lifted  and  carried 
to  his  wife.  Imagine  her  surprise  when,  putting 
back  the  thick  folds  of  a  shawl,  a  baby-girl 
opened  its  blue  eyes  into  her  face  and  smiled. 

"  The  craving  of  her  mother-heart  was  at  last 
satisfied.  Pressing  the  infant  to  her  bosom  in 
grateful  thanksgiving,  she  doubtless  believed  she 
might  live  to  nurture  it.  Indeed  she  did  recover 
strength  at  once  ;  but  it  was  only  artificial  strength, 
poor  thing !  After  a  few  days  of  strained  excite- 
ment, her  old  symptoms  reasserted  themselves, 
and  she  grew  rapidly  worse. 

"  The  babe,  which  she  had  learned  to  love  with 
all  the  fondness  of  parental  affection,  had  to  be 


62  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

surrendered  entirely  to  a  nurse ;  and  on  her  dying 
bed  my  aunty  gave  the  child  as  a  sacred  legacy 
to  her  husband,  begging  that  he  would  love  and 
rear  it  as  she  would  have  done,  had  life  been  spared 
her,  begging  that  Hazel  should  never  know  that 
he  was  not  her  own  father.  Uncle  promised  all 
that  his  wife  asked.  Through  bankruptcy  and 
poverty  he  remained  true  to  his  trust,  and  grew  to 
love  his  foster-daughter  as  though  she  were 
indeed  his  own  flesh  and  blood. 

"  But  then  came  a  tidal  wave  of  affliction.  He 
was  struck  with  paralysis,  and,  while  suffering 
this  infirmity,  his  very  roof  was  sold,  by  assignees, 
over  his  head.  This  proved  to  be  his  deathblow. 
Knowing  this  he  telegraphed  for  mamma,  as  I 
have  before  said,  wishing  to  transfer  his  sacred 
legacy  into  her  keeping. 

"  Hazel  was  then  eleven  years  old.  Mamma 
accepted  the  charge ;  but  she  urged,  in  justice  to 
my  father,  that  to  him  also  should  be  confided  the 
secret  of  the  child's  birth.  Uncle  readily  assented 
to  this.  Immediately  after  the  funeral  mother 
returned  home,  bringing  her  foster-child  with  her. 

"Monsieur,  this  is  Hazel  Verne's  mysterious 
history.  It  was  never  intended  that  I  should  be 
informed  of  it ;  but  on  the  morning  of  their  arrival 
mamma  entered  the  library,  accompanied  by  papa, 
and  as  I  chanced  to  be  standing  at  the  window 
behind  the  curtains,  which  concealed  me  entirely 
from  view,  I  overheard  every  word  that  passed 
between  them. 


BETRAYAL.  63 

"  Father,  though  at  first  ill-pleased  with  the 
idea  of  fostering  a  child  whose  pedigree  was 
shrouded  in  mystery,  finally  put  aside  prejudice, 
and  promised,  should  Hazel  prove  herself  worthy, 
to  make  her  joint  heiress  with  me  to  the  Weldon 
estates." 

Here  Evelyn  paused.  Her  heart  beat  tumult- 
uously,  while  her  eyes  and  cheeks  glowed  with 
volcanic  fire. 

"Monsieur,"  she  resumed  presently,  "imagine 
yourself  in  my  place  at  that  moment,  listening  to 
a  father,  as  he  planned  such  a  division  of  his  wealth, 
between  his  only  and  beloved  child  and  —  another, 
who  may  have  been  born  in  the  slums  of  Memphis, 
for  aught  he  knew,  —  for  aught  he  knows  unto 
this  day!" 

Monsieur  Deverell  sat,  while  Evelyn  was  speak- 
ing, with  his  eyes  fixed  upon  Don  Carlos's  jetty 
mane ;  but  now,  as  he  lifted  them  to  her  face,  she 
saw  in  them  a  look  of  profound  pity,  mingled  with 
another  look  she  could  not  so  well  interpret,  but 
in  which  there  seemed  to  be  little  of  the  sympathy 
she  had  anticipated. 

At  last  he  said  :  "  The  child's  history  is  sin- 
gularly sad  and  interesting,  —  a  history  which 
doubtless  would  have  led  me  to  agree  with  those 
interested  in  her  behalf,  had  I  accidently  overheard 
their  opinions." 

Overwhelming  indignation  arose  within  Evelyn 
at  his  words.  Had  she  then  fallen  so  short  of 


64  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

her  mark  ?  Had  she,  in  confiding  to  him  a  secret 
her  parents  guarded  so  religiously,  —  a  secret 
which,  for  four  long  years,  had  embittered  her 
very  existence,  —  in  doing  this  had  she  awakened 
sympathy  in  Deverell's  bosom  for  this  nameless 
foundling,  instead  of  for  herself?  After  these 
many  years  of  suppressed  torture,  had  she  cried 
aloud,  only  to  have  redoubled  misery  heaped  upon 
her,  instead  of  the  condolence  she  had  so  trust 
ingly  believed  would  be  forthcoming  from  the  lips 
of  him  whom  she  loved  better  than  the  whole 
world  beside,  and  who  had  given  her  encourage- 
ment to  believe  that  love  fully  returned  ? 

With  such  thoughts  Evelyn  looked  again  at 
the  young  Frenchman,  and  with  ashen  lips  said 
bitterly :  "  Believe  me,  monsieur,  the  consciousness 
of  being  wronged  by  my  parents  overruled  every 
other  feeling,  or  else  pity  for  this  young  girl  might 
have  prompted  me  to  affection." 

"  But  Monsieur  Weldon  has  ample  fortune  for 
you  both,  mademoiselle!  His  estate  is  reckoned 
among  the  very  wealthiest  in  the  South,"  said 
Aubrey,  feeling  himself  by  no  means  equal  to  the 
occasion. 

Evelyn  grated  her  teeth  in  contempt  of  his 
words.  Then,  forcing  a  little  laugh,  she  said,  with 
a  futile  attempt  to  dissipate  further  thoughts  about 
Hazel  from  the  mind  of  her  guest :  "  Oh  well,  the 
subject  is  certainly  not  worth  the  loitering  away 
of  a  whole  forenoon !  Come,  monsieur,  we  have 


BETRAYAL.  65 

actually  squandered  half  of  it  already.  A  race, 
;md  a  new  whip  if  Alcides  wins !  "  With  this  she 
dashed  ahead,  challenging  him  with  another  peal 
of  painful  laughter,  which  jarred  upon  our  hero's 
ear;  but  he  spurred  his  horse,  and  in  a  moment 
had  gained  on  Alcides  by  several  yards. 

"The  whip  is  mine !  "  cried  he,  facing  about  and 
waiting  for  Evelyn  to  come  up ;  but  while  his  voice 
sounded  cheerful  enough,  there  was  a  weight  upon 
his  heart  which  would  not  lift  itself.  He  saw  in 
his  mind's  eye  a  little  blue-robed  form,  with  hair  of 
mingled  gold  and  bronze ;  and  a  pair  of  pathetic 
blue  eyes  looked  up  into  his  own,  while  a  sweet 
voice  said,  "  I  am  only  Hazel."  Only  Hazel !  Only 
Hazel !  he  kept  repeating  to  himself.  Hazel  who  ? 
It  seemed  to  Aubrey  that  he  would  willingly 
surrender  ten  years  of  his  life,  if  by  so  doing  he 
could  purchase  the  right  to  ferret  out  the  mystery 
surrounding  this  orphan,  whose  image  had  so 
recently  entered  his  life. 

On  the  return  ride  these  two,  whose  spirits  had  so 
recently  been  bubbling  over  with  youthful  gayety, 
—  whose  clear  voices  had  rung  out  on  the  July  air, 
making  the  woods  reverberate  with  joyous  laughter 
and  song,  —  felt  very  little  like  lovers.  Though 
the  conversation  seldom  flagged  between  them, 
there  were  no  more  pretty  compliments,  no  more 
answering  blushes,  none  of  these  fond  glances 
which  had  constituted  Evelyn's  heaven.  Aubrey 
scarcely  glanced  toward  her;  or  if  by  chance 


66  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

he  looked  at  her,  it  was  in  a  manner  utterly 
devoid  of  the  tenderness  Evelyn  had  so  often  seen 
in  his  telltale  eyes,  glances  which  had  conveyed  a 
world  of  promise  to  her  heart.  The  very  absence 
of  these  silent  speeches  threw  Evelyn  into  a 
despairing  mood. 

Only  the  night  before  —  which  now  seemed  to 
her  an  age  ago  —  she  had  sought  her  room,  after 
bidding  her  guest  good-night  in  the  hall,  where 
repeated  hand-pressures,  and  passionate  looks  from 
his  dark  orbs,  made  her  very  happy ;  and  as  she 
beheld  her  own  beautiful  lovelit  face  in  the  mirror, 
she  felt,  beyond  the  shadow  of  doubt,  that  she  was 
destined  to  become  Madame  Deverell.  Now  a 
change  came  o'er  the  spirit  of  her  dream,  and  she 
told  herself  that  Hazel  Verne  was  the  evil  genius 
who  wrought  the  transformation. 

"  Is  it  not  enough  that  she  should  come  into  my 
life  and  infringe  my  rights,  without  dooming  me 
to  utter  misery  ?  " 

They  were  turning  an  abrupt  curve  in  the  road, 
as  she  questioned  herself  thus  bitterly,  when  all 
at  once  she  became  conscious  of  an  advancing 
horseman.  She  needed  only  one  look  to  recognize 
in  the  rider  none  other  than  the  young  barrister  to 
whom  she  had  given  a  claim  upon  her  hand,  a 
claim  she  now  saw  fit  to  revoke,  believing  the 
future  held  for  her  a  far  happier  fate. 

It  was  not  however  the  remembrance  of  that 
promise,  neither  was  it  the  remembrance  of  her 


BETRAYAL.  67 

recent  coldly  written  revocation  of  that  promise, 
which  caused  her  hand  to  close  convulsively  over 
the  handle  of  her  riding- whip,  and  her  face  to  turn 
from  white  to  red.  Her  disquiet  was  prompted 
by  the  belief  that  she  discerned  unmistakable 
evidence  of  intoxication  in  the  bearing  of  her  old 
suitor,  whose  horse  was  bearing  directly  upon 
them.  What  should  she  do,  —  recognize  him  in 
such  a  disgraceful  condition  ?  —  Never ! 

Only  a  few  rods  now  intervened  between  herself 
and  the  unsteady  horseman,  and  Evelyn  abruptly 
commenced  a  very  animated  historical  sketch  of  an 
ancient  mill,  near  which  they  were  passing,  and 
to  which  were  attached  several  blood-curdling 
legends ;  the  substance  of  one  being,  that  the  rusty 
machinery  was  known  to  revolve  on  certain  mid- 
nights during  the  year,  its  blazing  furnace  tended 
by  ghostly  and  grotesque  skeletons,  who  danced 
around  it,  as  witches  waltz  about  their  caldrons, 
chanting  weird  dirges,  to  which  the  rattle  of  their 
bones  kept  time. 

Evelyn  plunged  into  a  rapid  narration  of  this 
absurd  story,  hoping  thus  to  avoid  any  acknowledg- 
ment of  Wilford  Hylton's  presence.  Imagine  her 
astonishment  at  hearing  a  sudden  exclamation 
from  her  companion,  in  the  very  midst  of  her  tale : 
"  Hylton !  Well,  by  all  that 's  righteous,  it 's  the 
old  boy  himself !  " 

Did  she  hear  the  words  in  a  dream  ?  No,  there 
was  certainly  nothing  more  real  than  those  two 


68  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

riders  meeting,  and  engaging  in  a  prolonged  and 
jubilant  hand-wringing.  Seeing  that  matters  had 
now  developed  into  so  dramatic  a  situation,  and  that 
some  action  on  her  part  was  inevitable,  Evelyn 
rode  slowly  forward.  As  Wilford  lifted  his  hat 
she  saw  immediately  that  her  conclusion  as  to  the 
young  barrister's  condition  had  been  erroneous. 
No  sign  of  dissipation  was  apparent  in  the  lines  of 
that  noble  countenance.  No  red  demon  looked  out 
from  those  clear  blue  eyes.  There  was  no  stain  on 
the  fair  mustache,  nor  did  the  pale  lips  falter  in 
their  speech.  Though  all  these  signs  of  intoxi- 
cation were  happily  absent,  there  was  that  in  his 
shrunken  and  pale  face,  and  in  his  unsteadiness  in 
the  saddle,  which  spoke  plainly  of  protracted 
illness,  —  such  illness  as  seldom  comes  to  a  man 
A  broken  heart !  Alas,  who  can  describe  the  pain 
thereof,  save  one  who  has  endured  it  ? 

Evelyn  extended  an  icy  hand  to  Wilford,  saying 
briefly,  and  with  her  old  reserve :  "  Good-day,  Mr. 
Hylton !  " 

What  more  was  there  to  say  ?  How  could  she 
meet  those  honest  eyes,  filled  with  mute  reproach 
and  living  misery,  and  say,  "I  am  glad  to  see 
you,  my  friend."  No  wonder  she  averted  her  face 
to  conceal  a  burning  flush  roused  by  consciousness 
of  her  cruelty. 

She  experienced  unspeakable  relief  when  Aubrey 
explained  presently :  "  We  were  at  the  university 
together,  mademoiselle,  Mr.  Hylton  and  I.  This 


BETRAYAL.  69 

sudden  and  unexpected  meeting  is  a  pleasure  one 
does  not  often  experience  in  a  lifetime.  I  believed 
him  in  Jacksonville,  and  fully  intended  hunting  him 
up  before  I  left  the  country." 

Other  remarks  followed  ;  but  Wilford  was  burn- 
ing to  free  himself  from  the  presence  of  a  woman 
whose  heartlessness  had  wellnigh  given  him  a 
deathblow,  and  so  he  took  advantage  of  the  first 
opportunity  to  say :  "  I  am  stopping  with  an 
uncle,  half-a-mile  north,  on  the  left  of  the  road, 
Deverell,  you  can 't  miss  the  gothic  house  of  gray 
stone,  with  two  vicious  lions  guarding  the  entrance. 
Come  and  dine  with  me  on  Monday,  and  we  will 
chat  over  our  old  college  days.  Adieu  until  then, 
old  boy,  and  fail  me  at  your  peril.  I  shall  expect 
you  at  five,  sharp."  Then  away  the  fair-haired 
fellow  galloped,  more  miserable  than  ever. 

Tired  and  disappointed  with  the  world  in  general, 
Evelyn  hurried  to  her  rooms,  after  her  return  to 
the  house.  Throwing  herself  upon  a  divan,  she 
gave  herself  up  to  abusing  the  fates  which  had 
ushered  into  her  sphere  of  existence  two  such  super- 
fluities as  Hazel  Verne  and  Wilford  Hylton. 

What  would  be  the  sequel  of  this  meeting 
between  her  guest  and  the  barrister?  The  more 
she  debated  this  question  in  her  mind,  the  more 
convinced  she  became  that  nothing  would  ever 
reach  Aubrey's  ear  from  Wilford,  regarding  their 
past  affaire.  Her  knowledge  of  the  barrister's 
noble  nature  was  in  itself  proof  positive  that  he 


70  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

would  never  allow  one  syllable  to  pass  his  lips  in 
condemnation  of  her.  At  last,  with  all  her  present 
doubts  set  at  rest,  her  old  ambition  reasserted 
itself ;  and  with  reviving  hope  came  Phebe,  to  assist 
her  in  dressing  for  dinner. 

"Get  out  my  pale-mauve  silk,  with  the  lace 
drapery,"  she  said  to  the  mulatto  maid,  "and 
arrange  my  hair  in  high  puffs,  with  the  sapphire 
dagger  ornament.  Now  Phebe,  do  your  very  best. 
I  rely  on  you  as  an  expert,  you  know." 

"  An'  it 's  berry  little  sprusin'  up  as  you  acquire 
to  look  hansome  as  a  prince,  Missy  Eb'  lyn," 
returned  Phebe,  much  elated  by  her  mistress's 
flattery. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE  MAGICIAN. 

Music  can  noble  hints  impart, 
Engender  fury,  kindle  love.     ADDISON. 

A  KLINE,!'  said  Hazel  the  next  day,  after 
study-hours,  "  Who  was  the  Lady  of  the 
Lake  ?  Was  she  some  noted  heroine  ?" 

The  French  governess,  wondering  at  her  pupil's 
question,  looked  down  smilingly  into  the  pathetic 
eyes. 

"  Why,  ma  chdre"  she  replied,  "  she  was  Ellen 
Douglas,  the  heroine  of  Sir  Walter  Scott's  beauti- 
ful poem,  Lady  of  the  Lake.  Have  you  never 
read  it  ?  No?  And  have  you  not  seen  the  portrait 
of  the  Douglas's  Daughter,  which  hangs  in  my 
room?  Allans,  I  will  show  you." 

Hazel  pressed  one  of  the  woman's  hands  to  her 
lips  with  unwonted  fervor.  "  Oh  my  Arline,"  she 
exclaimed,  "  I  know  of  nothing  that  would  give 
me  more  pleasure  than  to  see  the  portrait  of  Ellen 
Douglas !  " 

Puzzled  more  and  more,  though  refraining  from 
further  questions,  Arline  led  the  way  to  her  own 
private  apartment,  which  was  located  in  a  retired 
part  of  the  house,  adjoining  the  study-room.  Here 
she  opened  the  shutters  to  admit  more  light,  and 
then  led  Hazel  up  to  the  hearth.  Pointing  above 
(71) 


72  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

the  mantel,  where  hung  a  small  frame  of  ancient 
workmanship,  she  said  :  "  That  is  the  Lady  of  the 
Lake.  I  brought  the  picture  with  me  from  France, 
and  prize  it  much,  as  it  once  hung  in  the  studio  of 
my  grandfather.  It  is  strange  mademoiselle  has 
never  taken  notice  of  it  before,  having  so  often 
been  in  my  room.  "  , 

"  Oh  yes,  Arline,"  said  Hazel  quickly,  "  I  have 
noticed  the  picture  before,  but  never  thought  to 
ask  the  subject. — And  this  is  Ellen  Douglas!" 

With  red  lips  slightly  apart,  and  hands  clasped 
loosely  before  her,  Hazel  stood  long  in  a  rapt 
posture,  suffering  her  eyes  to  dwell  upon  the  classic 
features  of  the  Douglas's  Daughter,  who  stood 
leaning  upon  one  frail  oar  in  her  little  shallop, 

With  head  upraised  and  look  intent, 
And  eye  and  ear  attentive  bent. 

Ellen's  supple  figure  was  clad  in  clinging  plaid. 
Jetty  ringlets  rippled  from  beneath  a  silken  snood, 
and  covered  her  shoulders  like  a  mantle.  Each 
feature  of  the  little  painting  charmed  Hazel,  as 
nothing  of  the  kind  had  ever  done  before.  Almost 
unconsciously  she  murmured,  —  so  very  softly  that 
Arline,  who  had  already  busied  herself  with  a  piece 
of  needlework,  did  not  catch  the  sound  of  the  girl's 
voice :  "  Beautiful,  beautiful  Ellen  Douglas !  I 
wonder  if  James  Fitz-James  was  your  lover  !  " 

She  turned  at  length  with  a  suppressed  sigh, 
and  slowly  approached  her  governess. 

the   character   not   beautiful,  ma   ch&re?" 


THE  MAGICIAN.  73 

asked  the  Frenchwoman,  looking  up  from  her 
work  as  Hazel  drew  near. 

11  Beautiful !  "  echoed  the  young  girl  passionately. 
"  I  have  never  seen  so  lovely  a  face  as  hers  in  my 
life  ;  but  Arline," — pausing  with  clasped  hands,  and 
eyes  full  of  thoughtful  pathos, — "  I  wish  I  knew 
something  about  her,  about  the  poem.  Will  you 
not  some  day  tell  it  me  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  mademoiselle  would  like  to  read  for 
herself.  I  have  all  Scott's  poetical  works,  and 
there  are  other  poems  among  them  of  equal  inter- 
est. You  may  take  them  to  your  roomyif  you 
like,  and  read  to  your  heart's  content." 

Going  to  her  bookcase  Arline  took  therefrom  a 
handsome  green  and  gold  volume,  which  she 
handed  to  Hazel.  "Madame  also  has  Scott's 
poems  in  the  library  downstairs,"  she  resumed, 
"  but  they  are  in  one  large  volume,  complete,  with 
illustrations,  which  would  not  be  as  convenient  for 
you  to  handle.  In  my  set  every  poem  is  separately 
bound.  When  you  have  finished  Lady  of  the  Lake 
I  will  give  you  Marmion,  or  the  Lay  of  the  Last 
Minstrel." 

Hazel  could  find  no  words  to  express  her  delight, 
lut  she  lifted  herself  on  tiptoe  and  imprinted  a 
warm  kiss  upon  either  cheek  of  the  kind  French- 
woman, whispering  as  she  did  so :  "  Bear  Arline, 
you  are  always  doing  something  to  make  me 
happy,  and  I  do  so  love  you ! " 

Then  Hazel  ran  out  of  the  room,  her    young 


74  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

heart  fluttering  with  gladness  at  the  thought  that 
she  was  to  learn  all  about  Ellen  Douglas,  and 
perhaps  James  Fitz-James;  for  the  two  names 
had  been  uppermost  in  her  mind  since  yestermorn. 
With  the  dainty  green  and  gold  volume  pressed 
tight  to  her  breast  she^  sped  along  the  corridor  to 
her  own  pretty  chamber,  and  locked  herself  in  to 
read. 

Dinner  over,  Evelyn  threw  a  zephyr  shawl  about 
her  shoulders,  and  went,  in  company  with  her 
guest,  for  a  stroll  about  the  grounds.  They 
lingered  in  the  garden  till  the  dew  began  to  fall, 
and  spangled  scarfs  were  spread  aloft  in  the  sky. 
Then  Deverell  suggested  re-entering  the  house, 
because  of  the  gathering  dampness. 

"  It  seems  like  a  penalty  to  be  compelled  to 
spend  so  lovely  an  evening  indoors,"  said  Evelyn 
ruefully  ;  "  but  mamma  is  so  anxious  to  hear  you 
sing!  You  certainly,"  pressing  his  arm  faintly, 
and  speaking  in  a  persuasive  tone,  "  will  be  kinder 
to  us  than  you  were  last  evening." 

On  the  occasion  referred  to  our  hero  had  politely 
declined  to  exercise  his  vocal  powers,  but  to  his 
companion's  entreaty  he  now  replied  :  "  What  a 
pity  there  is  no  moon  !  We  might  then  spend  the 
evening  on  the  lake,  and  I  would  tire  you  out  with 
singing.  To  me  there  is  something  unspeakably 
delightful  in  music  on  the  moonlit  water.  As  we 
are  denied  the  ruling  of  the  firmament,  however, 


THE  MAGICIAN.  75 

I  shall  with  pleasure  contribute  to  mademoiselle's 
entertainment  in  the  drawing-room.  —  Hazel,  your 
cousin,  does  she  enjoy  music?  Does  she  sing?" 

Hitherto  he  had  been  speaking  with  an  absent- 
mindedness  which  wellnigh  maddened  the  maiden 
at  his  side ;  but  as  he  questioned  her  thus,  his 
handsome  face  was  lighted  with  a  sudden  anima- 
tion, which  Evelyn  noted  with  the  acute  eye  of 
jealousy,  despite  the  deepening  gloom. 

With  her  accustomed  self-possession,  however" 
she  replied  briefly :  "  Hazel,  I  dare  say,  enjoys 
music  in  a  childish  fashion.  She  is  little  more 
than  a  child,  you  know.  As  for  singing,  her  talent 
that  way  is,  like  my  own,  grievously  at  fault." 

Evelyn  did  not  trust  her  eyes  to  meet  his  as 
she  spoke ;  but  the  basilisk  lurking  in  their  depths 
would  no  longer  have  perplexed  Deverell.  He  had 
guessed  that  little  affection  existed  in  Evelyn's 
heart  toward  the  young  girl  whose  life  was  so 
tangled  in  a  web  of  mystery,  and  who  aroused 
such  a  different  feeling  within  his  own  bosom. 

Five  months  earlier  Aubrey  believed  he  had 
seen  Evelyn  Weldon  in  every  phase  of  her  charac- 
ter, and  she  had  seemed  to  him  the  embodiment 
of  purity  and  generosity.  Now  he  had  detected 
flaws  in  this  queenly  being,  of  whom  he  had 
brought  himself  to  think  as  the  probable  mistress 
of  the  home  of  his  ancestors,  believing  she  would 
sustain  and  grace  the  position  creditably  to  those 
who  had  formerly  reigned  there  —  flaws  that  must 
never  be  found  in  a  Lady  of  Deverell  Hall. 


76  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

Deceit,  disloyalty !  These  were  defects  which 
made  woman,  however  fascinating  otherwise,  a 
disfigured  gem.  Though  a  hundred  beautiful 
traits  might  shine  in  her  character,  they  could  not 
redeem  this  blur. 

How  little  did  Evelyn  Weldon  imagine  that 
morning  when  narrating  Hazel's  history,  under  the 
cloistered  pines,  that  she  was  wilfully  shattering 
her  dream-castle,  on  the  very  eve  of  its  assuming 
substantial  reality.  All  that  now  remained  of  the 
castle  was  an  unsightly  ruin.  She  had  wantonly 
betrayed  her  dead  uncle's  trust ;  nor  was  it  alone 
a  death-trust  broken,  for  the  living  had  been 
impiously  deceived. 

Monsieur  was  not  a  little  disappointed  and  cha- 
grined at  the  untoward  turn  taken  by  an  affaire 
which  he  had  deemed  the  most  important  of  his 
life ;  yet  he  inwardly  congratulated  himself,  inas- 
much as  he  had  been  brought  face  to  face  with 
the  perilous  truth,  ere  the  fatal  leap  had  been 
taken.  Better  awake  from  a  happy  dream  in  time 
to  save  himself  from  impending  flames  ! 

Though  he  had  turned  a  reluctant  ear  to  the 
story  of  the  interesting  foundling,  though  he  had 
felt  himself  almost  a  traitor  as  the  words  fell  from 
Evelyn's  lips  and  buried  themselves  like  lead  in 
his  bosom,  yet  he  nourished  them  there.  Appeal- 
ing blue  eyes  and  sunny  hair,  above  a  frock  that 
matched  the  eyes  in  hue  and  clung  about  a  slender 
and  immature  form,  were  elements  of  a  picture 


THE  MAGICIAN.  77 

graven  upon  his  heart,  —  a  picture  which  haunted 
him  every  hour,  and  would  not  fade  away. 

"  Hazel,  Hazel !  but  Hazel  who  ?  "  This  was 
the  revolving  question.  If  he  appeared  preoccu- 
pied this  evening,  it  was  little  wonder. 

Evelyn  ushered  him  along  the  shadowy  veranda, 
through  the  long  French  window,  into  the  spacious 
parlor,  and  conducted  him  at  once  to  the  open 
piano.  "  I  remember,  monsieur,"  said  she  archly, 
"that  you  always  prefer  playing  your  own  accom- 
paniments ;  so  pray  be  seated,  and  do  not  think  of 
abandoning  this  stool  until  that  mysterious  warbler 
in  your  throat  has  quite  exhausted  himself.  —  Here 
is  a  portfolio  containing  songs  by  many  composers. 
Doubtless  your  favorites  are  among  them."  But 
Monsieur  Deverell  sang  altogether  from  memory, 
and  left  the  handsome  brown  and  silvern  music- 
case  unopened. 

Evelyn  ensconced  herself  in  the  corner  of  a 
luxurious  armchair,  near  the  piano,  while  Mrs. 
Weldon  sat,  busy  with  some  delicate  needlework, 
by  a  small  inlaid  stand,  where  the  light  from  a 
rose-tinted  shade  fell  upon  her  countenance,  flood- 
ing it  with  holy  loveliness. 

With  masterful  power  our  hero's  fingers  touched 
the  keys,  awakening  a  seductive  prelude.  His 
chest  expanded,  his  lips  parted,  and  out  poured  a 
strain  from  Donizetti's  Lucia,  —  a  strain  subdued 
and  searching,  which  throbbed  through  the  house. 
Measure  after  measure  rose  and  fell,  floating 


78  THE    DEATH   TRUST. 

through  the  halls,  reaching  even  the  kitchen,  where 
it  broke  in  upon  an  animated  negro  chorus. 

One  by  one  the  sable  dependents  stole  out  and 
moved  stealthily  down  the  side  veranda,  toward 
the  drawing-room  windows,  which  were  open  to 
admit  the  fragrant  atmosphere  from  the  garden; 
and  soon  the  silhouettes  which  revealed  themselves 
in  the  deep  frames  would  have  been  sufficient  to 
encourage  any  singer,  had  he  chanced  to  glance 
that  way. 

Through  one  window  could  be  seen  Aunt  Sally, 
the  cook,  with  a  bright  yellow  bandanna  twisted 
about  her  head,  while  in  each  of  her  strong  bare 
arms  was  held  a  spellbound  pickanniny,  whose  big 
black  eyes  glistened  like  emeralds  in  ebony  settings. 
At  another  point  stood  Phebe,  together  with  the 
butler,  their  heads  bent  close  together  as  they 
whispered  with  hushed  voices,  and  now  and  then 
suffered  their  eyes  to  meet  in  glances  eloquent 
with  more  than  musical  appreciation.  In  a  third 
aperture,  unopened,  from  which  the  heavy  portieres 
were  looped  aside,  there  were  other  visages,  each 
aglow  with  pleasure  at  this  unusual  treat. 

Meanwhile  where  was  Hazel  Verne?  Let  us 
steal  to  her  window  and  glance  in  upon  her,  as 
she  bends  with  flushed  cheeks  and  thirsty  eyes 
over  her  poem,  The  Lady  of  the  Lake.  Not  once 
had  she  stirred  from  her  chair  since  dinner.  Her 
rapt  posture,  the  light  that  came  and  went  in  her 
beautiful  face,  the  smiles  and  tears  which  by  turns 


THE  MAGICIAN.  79 

took  possession  of  her  eyes,  the  sighs  that  fluttered 
half-smothered  from  her  lips,  all  declared  that  Ellen 
Douglas's  joys  and  sorrows  had  become  Hazel's 
own.  So  completely  lost  was  the  child  to  all  her 
surroundings,  that  even  when  she  came  to  these 
words  of  the  minstrel  to  the  Douglas's  Daughter, 

Yet,  oh  loved  maid,  thy  mirth  refrain, 
Thy  hand  is  on  a  lion's  mane ! 

and  the  music  from  below,  like  notes  from  a  silver 
flute,  fell  round  about  her,  she  did  not  come  fully 
to  herself,  for  the  song  resounded  much  like  music 
she  had  oft  heard  in  her  dreams.  Thus  she  read 
her  poem,  line  after  line,  and  the  song-notes 
lingered,  until  it  seemed  as  if  sob  after  sob  were 
poured  from  a  broken  heart  into  her  ear. 

Suddenly  the  book  fell  from  her  hands  to  the 
carpet.  With  bated  breath  she  sprang  to  her  feet, 
each  nerve  strained  to  listen.  The  room  was  now 
alive  with  those  magic  strains,  and  words  from 
The  Bohemian  Girl  (  Deverell  was  singing  "  When 
other  lips  and  other  hearts")  thrilled  her  soul. 
She  had  once  been  taken  to  Tallahassee  to  hear 
this  tuneful  opera,  and  had  been  so  affected  by  the 
tribulations  of  the  abducted  Arline,  that  her  violent 
weeping  had  been  a  source  of  direst  mortification 
to  her  arrogant  foster-sister  ;  and  she  had  often 
recalled  certain  passages  of  the  plot,  and  renewed 
her  sympathetic  tears. 

Mechanically  Hazel  approached  the  door,  and 
glided  like  one  enchanted  down  the  hall.  As  she 


80  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

approached  the  foot  of  the  staircase,  and  turned 
toward  the  drawing-room,  whose  doors  were  wide 
open,  someone  grasped  her  arm  tightly,  and 
whispered :  "  Ah  Mademoiselle  Hazel,  what  music, 
what  grand  music!  It  is  monsieur,  my  country- 
man, who  sings ! " 

"  Yes,  Arline,"  returned  the  young  girl  in  a  low 
voice,  "  it  is  he.  Did  you  ever  hear  anything  half 
so  beautiful  ?  But  I  must  go  in,  I  must  be  nearer ! 
Won't  you  come  too  ?  " 

The  governess  shook  her  head  dissentingly.  "  I 
prefer  to  remain  here,"  she  added;  whereupon 
Hazel  moved  toward  the  drawing-room  alone. 

No-one  observed  the  white-robed  figure,  standing 
with  clasped  hands  upon  the  threshold,  her  head 
bent  forward,  and  her  eyes,  with  ineffable  sadness 
and  longing  in  them,  riveted  upon  the  singer.  No- 
one  noticed  her  as  she  glided  noiselessly  over  the 
soft  carpet  toward  the  piano,  where  she  mutely 
stood,  close  behind  Evelyn . — Nobody  observed  her 
until  the  singer  paused  and,  glancing  up  suddenly, 
cried  joyously,  "  Hazel !  " 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE    GREEN-EYED    MONSTER. 

OH  stay,  oh  stay ! 
Joy  so  seldom  weaves  a  chain 
Like  this  tonight,  that  oh,  't  is  pain 
To  break  its  links  so  soon.    MOORE. 

IF  there  was  not  something  akin  to  joy  in 
Aubrey's  tones  as  he  uttered  this  name,  there 
was  certainly  something  which  prompted  Evelyn 
to  start  as  if  she  had  been  stung.  She  let  her  eyes 
range  several  times  up  and  down  the  form  near 
her,  —  taking  in  every  detail,  from  the  excited 
posture  to  the  vivid  crimson  that  had  mantled  the 
face,  as  Hazel  found  herself  thus  suddenly  awakened 
from  the  spell  which  had  bound  her. 

Instead  of  sadness,  there  was  now  a  startled 
expression  in  her  eyes,  as  she  slowly  raised  them 
to  the  Frenchman's  countenance,  and  murmured 
brokenly,  as  she  put  back  the  hair  nervously  from 
her  temples :  "  Oh  monsieur,  I  pray  you  will 
pardon  me !  I  was  sitting  in  my  room,  reading, 
when  I  heard  your  voice,  and  —  and  I  came !  —  I 
wished  to  be  nearer.  I  love  music  dearly,  and 
have  heard  that  opera  once  in  my  life,  and  so  I 
recognized  your  song.  It  was  heavenly." 

Monsieur's  eyes  glanced  from  Hazel's  face  to 
(81) 


82  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

Miss  Weldon's,  and  he  could  not  help  noting 
Evelyn's  pallor,  though  her  fierce  anger  was 
cautiously  hidden  beneath  the  heavy  lashes,  as  she 
bent  her  gaze  upon  a  spray  of  delicate  orchids, 
which  had  fallen  from  her  belt  into  her  lap.  With 
this  she  toyed  nervously,  as  she  felt  his  eyes  upon 
her,  while  her  bosom  was  aglow  with  perturbation. 

"Is  this  a  child's  appreciation  of  music?" 
Aubrey  questioned  within  himself,  as  Evelyn's 
words  came  back  to  him.  "  This  little  maid 
enjoys  music  in  no  childish  fashion  !  " 

"  You  are  not  going  to  run  away  so  soon  !  "  he 
exclaimed,  as  Haze]  began  a  retreat  from  the 
piano. 

She  felt  aggrieved.  She  wondered  at  his  silence, 
and  tried  to  convince  herself  that  he,  as  well  as 
Evelyn,  was  displeased  at  her  coming ;  but  she 
paused,  with  a  glad  light  in  her  visage,  as  monsieur 
continued,  in  earnest  tones  :  "  Stay  Hazel !  I  will 
sing  for  you  until  midnight,  if  you  enjoy  hearing 
me." 

"  Yes,  darling,"  interposed  Mrs.  Weldon,  "  by 
all  means  stay.  I  would  have  called  you  before, 
but  I  knew  you  were  reading,  and  did  not  like  to 
disturb  you." 

Thereupon  Hazel  nestled  into  a  large  chair 
beside  her  foster-mother,  forgetting  all  save  the 
one  thought  that  she  was  to  hear  more  of  that 
wonderful  voice.  Yes,  even  the  memory  of  Ellen 
Douglas  was  banished  for  the  time,  as  once  more 


THE  QREEN-EYED  MONSTER.  83 

Monsieur  Deverell  held  his  listeners  spellbound,  — 
all  save  Evelyn,  who  never  allowed  her  glance  to 
wander  from  the  illumined  face  of  her  foster-sister. 

At  length,  as  the  singer  lost  himself  in  his  chosen 
melodies,  Evelyn  arose,  and  noiselessly  crossed  the 
room  to  her  mother.  "  Tell  monsieur,"  said  she, 
bending  over  the  elder  lady's  chair  and  whispering 
hurriedly,  "  to  please  accept  my  compliments,  and 
excuse  me  for  the  rest  of  the  evening.  One  of 
those  odious  headaches  has  seized  me  suddenly, 
and  I  must  retire  at  once.  I  must  be  where  there 
is  quiet." 

"  I  will  go  with  you,  dear,  and  see  that  you  are 
made  comfortable,"  returned  Mrs.  Weldon,  rising 
anxiously  from  her  chair. 

"  No,*  no,  I  shall  not  permit  it ! "  said  her 
daughter  with  a  deprecating  gesture.  "  Phebe  can 
do  all  that  is  required." 

The  proud  beauty  swept  down  the  wide  apart- 
ment ;  but  on  gaining  the  doorway  she  paused  long 
enough  to  cast  one  backward  and  reproachful  look 
at  Hazel,  whose  gaze  followed  her  unconsciously. 
The  dart  must  have  hit  its  mark,  for  Hazel  trembled 
visibly.  Her  face  was  pained  and  bloodless,  but 
still  turned  toward  her  cousin. 

Afterward,  when  Evelyn  had  disappeared,  Hazel 
sat  with  great  orbs  riveted  upon  the  floor,  in  a  half- 
bewildered,  half-frightened  way,  with  only  the 
memory  of  that  unkind  look  before  her  mind's  eye. 
She  tried,  oh  how  vainly !  to  find  some  interpreta- 


84  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

tion  of  Evelyn's  behavior.  Even  the  sound  of 
Aubrey's  voice,  which  had  charmed  her  soul  into 
ecstacy,  was  now  drowned  in  the  one  supplicating 
cry  of  her  heart :  "  What  could  Evelyn  mean  by 
such  a  look  ?  " 

Reaching  her  apartment  Evelyn  tore  from  her 
throat  a  necklace  of  rubies  and  sapphires,  which 
had  suddenly  become  unbearably  tight.  Flinging 
the  gems  rudely  upon  her  dressing-table  she  com- 
menced a  feverish  pace  up  and  down  the  room, 
her  desperate  thoughts  finding  vent  in  hot,  rustling 
words. 

"Dared  I  but  breathe  a  word  or  two  in  that 
girl's  ear,  she  would  be  glad  enough  to  court 
obscurity  in  the  future !  Oh,  but  I  dare  not !  To 
do  this  would  be  to  condemn  myself  fore"ver  in 
his  eyes.  Then  where  would  be  my  triumph  ? 
Levelled  to  the  dust !  And  she  —  ?  No,  no !  I 
must  needs  choke  back  the  words  that  rush  so 
often  to  my  lips,  and  go  on  in  silence,  letting  a 
child  of  infamy  eat  out  my  heart's  sweetest  hope. 
Oh  the  nameless  torture  that  has  filled  my  life 
since  yestermorn !  Jealousy  ?  Jealous  of  a  child 
whom  he  knows  to  be  branded  with  mystery  and 
sh&me  ?  Bah !  I  must  be  mad !  — Yet,  why  does  n't 
Aubrey  broach  the  subject  of  —  the  subject  that 
fills  my  heart  to  suffocation  ?  He  has  palpably 
changed  since  his  arrival  at  the  Grange.  That 
evening  his  every  word,  every  glance,  was  eloquent 
with  —  his  purpose  in  coming;  but  now  he  is 


THE   GREEN-EYED  MONSTER.  85 

almost  cold  toward  me.  It  may  be  this  preoccu- 
pation is  but  the  forerunner  of  a  proposal !  Yes, 
for  much  is  involved  in  such  a  step.  I  shall  try  to 
bide  my  time  patiently,  till  he  sees  fit  to  speak,  — 
which  may  be  even  tomorrow !  Ah  yes,  even  by 
another  sunset  I  may  be  able  to  recall  my  wretch- 
edness of  tonight  with  secret  amusement." 

With  this  hopeful  yet  subdued  thought  the  girl 
began  to  consider  the  impropriety  of  her  sudden 
disappearance  from  the  drawing-room ;  and  poor 
Hazel's  innocent  head  became  the  target  of  cen- 
sure for  this  breach  of  hospitality  on  Evelyn's 
part.  Why  did  that  girl  make  her  cousin  — 
yes,  she  must  still  say  cousin  —  feel  so  terribly  ? 
Would  my  lord  suspect  the  true  cause  of  Evelyn's 
absence?  She  believed  this  impossible.  Never- 
theless, after  a  moment's  debate,  she  resolved  upon 
the  advisability  of  a  speedy  return.  She  applied 
a  light  wash  of  French  enamel  to  her  face,  that 
it  might  appear  paler,  in  accordance  with  her 
pretence  of  sick-headache.  Then  she  saturated 
her  handkerchief  with  cologne,  took  a  vinaigrette, 
and  was  ready  to  appear  before  monsieur  in  the 
role  of  invalid. 

As  she  softly  opened  the  door,  voices  came 
echoing  up  the  staircase,  in  an  exchange  of  good- 
nights  ;  and  by  this  she  concluded  that  the  little 
party  had  disbanded.  She  inwardly  congratulated 
herself  that  her  going  down  would  yet  be  in  season 
to  bid  her  guest  goodnight.  She  would  doubtless 
find  him  alone  in  the  hall.  Oh  sweet  thought ! 


86  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

She  heard  her  mother  going  about  the  house,  on 
her  usual  nightly  missions.  Now,  fully  assured 
that  she  should  find  monsieur  alone,  Evelyn  glided 
down  the  corridor,  whispering  to  her  heart  that 
even  tonight  all  doubts  might  be  exiled  forever  by 
the  coveted  confession.  At  least  she  would  hear 
from  him  sympathetic  words,  which  alone  would 
be  as  balm  to  her  restless  soul. 

She  reached  the  heavy  oaken  balustrade,  and 
was  on  the  point  of  descending,  when  a  subdued 
murmur  of  voices  floated  upward,  like  the  hum  of 
night.  With  palpitating  breath  she  paused,  one 
jewelled  hand  resting  on  the  railing,  the  other 
pressed  close  against  her  heart.  Her  now  anxious 
face  was  bent  eagerly  forward. 

"  Tell  me,  little  one,  are  you  happy  here  ?  " 

These  words  came  to  Evelyn  in  the  familiar 
voice,  whose  tones  had  such  power  to  rouse  each 
fibre  of  her  being. 

"  Yes,  oh  yes,  monsieur.  I  am  happy,  quite 
happy,  since  I  heard  your  singing." 

"It  is  not  that!  I  do  not  mean  that!  Tell 
me  !  Is  your  life,  your  home,  a  happy  one  ?  Do 
not  be  afraid  to  trust  me,  Hazel.  I  wish  to  be 
your  true  friend." 

This  time  the  Frenchman's  suppressed  yet 
agitated  voice  was  met  by  the  reply :  "  Oh 
monsieur,  never  could  one  be  blessed  with  a 
happier  home  than  mine.  I  have  all  one  could 
wish." 


THE  GREEN-EYED  MONSTER.  87 

The  listener  peered  over  the  banister,  but  with 
a  deathly  face,  her  eyes  glittering  with  a  greenish 
hue.  She  drew  herself  back  the  next  instant ;  for 
there,  just  beneath  her  gaze,  under  the  vivid  glare 
of  the  chandelier,  stood  Deverell,  bending  over 
one  of  Hazel  Verne's  little  hands,  —  even  touching 
it  with  his  lips,  and  murmuring  :  "  Goodnight, 
my  little  friend  !  Be  thine  the  fairest  dreams  that 
angels  bestow  upon  the  pure,  and  be  thy  future 
life  ever  as  thou  sayest  it  is  at  the  present,  —  very 
happy  !  Goodnight,  child,  and  God  bless  thee  ! " 

Like  a  restless  spirit  Evelyn  sought  her  chamber 
again.  Flinging  herself  upon  a  divan,  she  re- 
mained there  through  long  hours  of  the  night, 
striving  with  the  nettle  which  had  crept  into  her 
life.  Not  once  did  the  thought  come  to  her  that, 
as  she  had  brewed  her  own  bitter  cup,  she  must 
perforce  drink  it. 


CHAPTER  X. 


HE  gave  to  misery  ( all  he  had )  a  tear. 
He  gained  from  Heaven  ( 't  was  all  he  wished  )  a  friend. 

GRAY. 

A  UBREY,  with  his  quick  perceptions,  was 
J\  keenly  alive  to  the  fact  that  his  old  and 
endeared  college-friend,  Wilford  Hylton,  was  the 
victim  of  some  serious  trouble,  bodily  or  mental. 
Often,  since  their  recent  meeting,  he  had  recalled 
the  young  barrister's  woe-begone  visage  with 
painful  regret,  wondering  what  could  have  wrought 
so  deplorable  a  change  in  the  hopeful  and  viva- 
cious youth  of  college-days.  Possibly  his  ambition 
had  been  thwarted  by  unkind  Fate  ! 

At  the  university  Wilford  and  the  young 
Frenchman  had  been  close  friends ;  but  during 
an  interval  of  years  the  chain  of  communication 
between  them  had  been  severed  by  the  drift  of 
circumstances.  After  a  limited  vacation  Wilford 
had  entered  the  office  of  his  uncle,  a  prominent 
lawyer  in  Jacksonville ;  while  Deverell  had  trav- 
elled extensively,  abroad  and  at  home,  thus 
rendering  his  address  too  uncertain  for  continuous 
correspondence. 

More  than  three  years  had  elapsed  since  either 
(88) 


WILFORD' S  SORROW.  89 

had  received  definite  news  of  the  other.  Naturally 
the  thought  suggested  itself  to  Deverell,  that 
Wilford's  impaired  health  must  be  due  to  business 
reverses.  Riding  alone  and  at  an  idle  pace 
through  the  forest,  on  his  way  to  Hylton's  abode, 
our  hero  recalled  his  friend's  beautiful  character, 
as  it  was  associated  with  bygone  days,  —  his  un- 
selfish nature,  the  almost  womanly  tenderness  of 
his  affection,  the  rich  cadence  of  his  voice,  as  it 
resounded  in  eloquent  debate,  the  fair  hair,  brushed 
back  from  a  noble  brow,  the  luminous  eyes,  so  true 
and  expressive.  Aubrey  remembered  the  tall  and 
well-built  form,  with  its  manly  bearing  and  its 
graceful  movement. 

He  could  not  forbear  a  smile,  as  he  called  to 
mind  a  certain  occasion  when,  as  the  twa  were 
walking,  with  interlocked  arms,  about  the  recrea- 
tion-ground, Deverell  declared,  that  if  the  Fates 
had  only  created  his  companion  of  the  opposite  sex, 
his  heart  would  have  been  laid  at  his  —  or  rather 
at  her  —  feet. 

How  Hylton  laughed  as  he  retorted  :  "  In  such 
a  case,  mon  ami,  college  discipline  would  prove  an 
insurmountable  barrier  between  us." 

Arriving  at  the  specified  brown  house,  with  its 
ferocious  stone  lions,  Deverell  saw  Wilford  seated 
within  the  embrasure  of  a  bay-window,  apparently 
on  the  lookout  for  his  visitor. 

"My  suspense  had  wellnigh  reached  madness," 
exclaimed  Wilford,  bounding  down  the  steps. 


90  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

t 

"  You  might  have  spared  yourself  undue  anxiety, 
bon  ami  !  "  returned  monsieur,  with  a  warm  hand- 
pressure.  "I  would  not  miss  this  meeting  for  a 
fortune." 

It  seemed  to  Wilford  at  that  moment  that  the 
sun  had  risen  again  over  his  benighted  world  — 
the  sun  which  he  believed  had  set  forevermorc. 
Under  the  firm  pressure  of  that  true  hand,  with 
a  soul's  steadfast  friendship  beaming  from  those 
eloquent  eyes,  how  could  he  doubt  the  fidelity  of 
man.  Surely  it  was  good  to  feel  the  sunlight 
beating  upon  the  frozen  heart,  after  these  days  of 
wintry  desolation ! 

For  a  whole  fortnight  Wilford  had  walked, 
drank,  ate,  and  slept  like  one  under  the  spell  of 
somnambulism.  The  sun  had  shone  and  warmed 
the  earth  into  a  flood  of  glory,  but  not  for  him. 
Roses  had  bloomed  and  intoxicated  the  air  with 
their  aroma.  Birds  had  vainly  sung  and  fountains 
had  vainly  sprayed  in  the  garden,  where  each  day 
had  found  him  walking  with  hanging  head  and 
sluggish  step,  oblivious  to  everything  save  the 
thought  that  the  one  woman  of  his  heart  had 
proved  herself  a  traitress. 

Evelyn  had  proffered  him  the  ecstatic  cup  of 
love.  In  the  bottom  he  found  poison  ;  but  he 
found  it  too  late !  The  cup  had  been  drained,  and 
Wilford  was  a  doomed  man. 

It  must  have  been  full  sixty  seconds  that  the 
two  men  stood  gazing  straight  at  each  other.  Each 


WILFORD'S  SORROW.  91 

silently  wondered  what  the  other's  experiences  had 
been  during  the  years  of  separation.  At  length, 
as  if  he  had  interpreted  something  of  Deverell's 
mind,  Wilford  spoke  :  "  We  both  have  our  stories, 
old  boy ;  but  these  we  must  reserve  until  after  we 
have  dined.  Uncle  Allan  and  his  wife  have  gone 
to  the  city.  Concluding  the  dining-room  would 
seem  barn-like,  with  only  us  two,  I  have  ordered 
dinner  in  my  sanctum,  where  I  am  sure  we  shall 
be  more  cosy." 

"  Good !  "  exclaimed  the  other.  "  It  will  seem 
like  the  old  days,  when  we  us(*l  to  smuggle  cham- 
pagne and  goodies  into  our  dens,  and  thus  manage 
our  private  feasts." 

Deverell  laughed,  slapping  his  companion's  shoul- 
der. Encouraged  by  seeing  the  pale  face  brighten 
at  this  reference  to  past  escapades,  Aubrey  followed 
his  host  upstairs. 

'JThe  sanctum  was  a  spacious  room,  and  presented 
a  most  inviting  appearance,  with  its  gray  carpet 
and  substantial  furniture,  not  to  mention  the 
luxuries  which  make  up  a  man's  comfort,  as  well 
as  the  superfluities  which  show  a  woman's  taste 
and  (despite  their  utter  uselessness)  delight  the  eye 
of  refinement.  The  most  attractive  feature  of  the 
room  was  the  neatly  laid  table,  with  its  array  of 
crystal  and  china,  and  its  promise  of  Epicurean 
delights. 

When  all  was  in  readiness  the  man-servant 
assumed  a  statuesque  attitude  near  the  door,  with 


92  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

the  good-natured  expression  of  "At  your  service, 
gentlemen,"  on  his  face ;  but  this  look  was  ex- 
changed for  one  of  amazement  as  the  young  host 
said  kindly:  "You  may  go  now,  Peter.  I  shall 
ring  when  you  are  wanted." 

"  De  champagne,  Mars  Wi'f ord !  Sha'  n't  I  open 
it  af  o'  I  goes  ?  "  asked  the  colored  boy,  hesitating, 
but  with  his  hand  on  the  door-knob. 

"  All  right !  "  assented  Wilf  ord ;  whereupon  a 
little  popping  act  followed.  Then  the  friends 
were  left  to  themselves. 

Deverell  was  determined  to  cheer  the  spirit  of 
his  host,  if  such  a  thing  were  possible;  and  his 
incessant  flow  of  humor  certainly  had  the  desired 
effect.  As  the  ghosts  of  old  college  jokes  were 
resurrected  one  by  one,  "Wilf ord' s  cheeks  began  to 
flush  with  new  animation,  while  through  his  smiles 
shone  the  illumined  soul. 

Genuine  mirth  burst  from  his  lips ;  and  such  a 
marked  transformation  was  wrought,  that  when 
our  ebony  Mend  Peter  reappeared,  to  arrange  the 
cloth  for  dessert,  he  could  do  nothing  for  a  moment 
but  stand  looking  at  his  young  master's  face. 

With  the  termination  of  dinner,  however,  their 
wit  seemed  nearly  spent.  Each  young  man  tilted 
back  his  chair,  after  lighting  a  cigar,  conscious  that 
more  serious  matters  than  strawberries  and  wine 
were  next  in  order.  Heretofore  not  one  syllable 
had  been  uttered  between  them  about  the  personal, 
matters  which  had  filled  the  years  of  separation. 


WILFORD'S  SORROW.  93 

For  some  moments  a  strained  silence  reigned 
between  them,  such  as  many  have  experienced, 
when  brought  upon  the  "  anxious  seat"  for  grave 
confession.  Neither  sought  the  other's  glance, 
but  rather  avoided  it.  As  Deverell  puffed  dainty 
whiffs  from  his  Havana,  watching  the  delicate 
blue  smoke  curl  upward,  Hylton  sat  motionless, 
gazing  steadfastly  through  the  window,  and  rest- 
lessly twisting  his  smouldering  cigar. 

To  all  things  there  is  an  end.  At  length  this 
constraint  was  broken  by  Wilford.  Turning 
slowly  from  the  window,  he  remarked  :  "  I  hoped 
to  run  across  you  two  years  ago,  when  I  was  abroad. 
In  Paris  one  day  I  followed  a  young  Frenchman  into 
a  cafe,  mistaking  him  for  yourself.  I  was  not  con- 
vinced of  my  error  until  I  spoke  to  him.  This 
was  in  October.  Were  you  in  Europe  at  that 
time?" 

After  a  moment's  reflection  the  other  replied : 
"  At  the  time  you  mention,  two  years  ago,  I  was 
visiting  my  sister  in  Genoa.  A  month  later  I  was 
in  Paris !  And  you  ?  " 

"  In  Vienna,  where  my  business  was  concen- 
trated. I  remained  in  that  city  two  months. 
The  time  was  consumed  in  the  discussion  of  my 
case.  At  its  conclusion  I  returned  home." 

"  And  your  mission  abroad  ?  I  trust  it  proved 
fruitful  ?  "  said  monsieur  interrogatively. 

It  was  with  no  small  degree  of  suspense  that 
he  awaited  Hylton's  response ;  for,  as  he  covertly 


94  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

studied  the  pale  face  opposite,  he  believed  he  saw 
the  unmistakable  stamp  of  financial  disappoint- 
ment written  thereon. 

This  was  a  false  interpretation,  however.  After 
a  moment's  pause  Wilford  looked  up.  Meeting 
his  friend's  anxious  gaze  he  began,  in  a  voice  which 
conveyed  little  triumph,  but  much  bitter  irony: 
"Yes,  after  protracted  argument.  I  established 
our  client's  title,  against  a  Hungarian  competitor,  to 
an  inheritance  of  fifteen-hundred-thousand  florins, 
and  returned  home  with  flying  colors.  It  was  the 
first  important  case  in  which  I  had  figured,  having 
been  admitted  to  the  bar  only  a  few  months  before. 
Since  then  I  have  advised  effectually  in  many 
noted  cases  in  our  own  State,  and  my  professional 
career  has  been  one  of  marked  success.  I  remained 
for  two  years  junior  partner  with  Uncle  Allan. 
Failing  in  health,  he  concluded  to  retire  from 
business  to  his  country-seat  here.  I  desired  to 
keep  up  the  firm  in  Jacksonville ;  but  uncle  is 
childish  in  his  enfeebled  state,  and  urged  me  to 
establish  an  office  in  Jasper,  where  I  can  be  near, 
to  act  as  his  private  adviser,  as  well  as  to  share 
the  comforts  of  his  home.  At  the  same  time,  he 
felt  sure  of  my  success  in  these  parts.  His  was  a 
correct  prophecy.  Fortune  has  followed  me.  I 
have  been  continually  fighting  and  conquering, 
and  for  the  wealthiest  people  in  this  section." 

"  But,"  continued  Wilford  with  a  sarcastic  air, 
as  he  tossed  his  neglected  cigar  through  the 


WILFORD'S  SORROW.  95 

window,  "  after  all,  where  is  my  triumph  ?  What 
is  one  ambition  fulfilled,  if  in  a  far  sweeter  way 
we  are  exalted  to  Heaven,  only  to  be  hurled 
mercilessly  down?  What  is  victory?  Through 
eloquence  we  win  laurels.  We  think  to  win  roses 
of  love,  through  months  of  prayerful  perseverance, 
only  to  have  them  abruptly  transformed  into 
thorns  that  sting  like  adders  ?  What  is  Fame,  if 
Fortune  guides  us  to  the  topmost  rung  of  the 
ladder  only  to  mock  us,  —  to  open  our  eyes  to  the 
terrible  conviction  that  there  is  no  such  thing  as 
truth?" 

Wilford's  voice  became  husky.  Every  muscle 
of  his  face  twitched  with  agitation,  while  his  blue 
eyes  remained  fixed  upon  Deverell,  whose  own 
eyes  now  were  dim. 

Aubrey  remained  silent.  His  heart  prompted 
no  fit  response  to  an  utterance  so  unexpected  as 
this.  Indeed,  Wilford's  words  were  somewhat 
enigmatical,  and  Aubrey  could  only  revolve  them 
in  his  mind,  trying  to  define  them.  In  this  state 
of  mental  perturbation  the  young  barrister  left 
Aubrey  for  some  moments,  and  commenced  a 
restless  pace  to-and-fro,  with  his  hands  clasped 
behind  him. 

When  he  at  length  resumed  his  seat  his  voice 
betrayed  less  agitation,  but  was  still  tremulous. 

"  Do  not  put  too  hasty  a  meaning  on  my  words, 
my  friend.  I  spoke  madly!  At  sight  of  your 
countenance,  some  of  my  lost  faith  in  human  honor 


96  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

was  roused.  A  few  days  ago  all  became  darkness 
to  me.  I  had  forgotten  your  very  existence,  and 
was  too  utterly  cast  down  to  care  for  it.  Now  the 
sky  has  changed.  I  glory  once  more  in  the  light 
of  a  friendly  face  ! " 

"  Mon  Dieu !  What  great  sorrow  is  this  of 
yours,  Hylton  ?  Confide  in  me  !  "  exclaimed  the 
young  Frenchman,  deeply  moved. 

"  Why  should  I  suffer  my  wound  to  bleed 
afresh  ?  "  said  the  other  sadly. 

After  a  brief  silence  he  added  :  "  Yet  to  you  I 
loill  confide  this  much,  —  I  have  loved,  —  loved 
with  a  fool's  mad  devotion !  In  return  I  have  been 
betrayed,  ruthlessly,  heartlessly "  betrayed,  by  an 
enchantress,  an  accomplished  deceiver.  This  is 
the  skeleton  in  my  closet!  What  now  is  your 
prescription  ?  I  am  stifled  with  this  air,  and  long 
for  new  fields  and  pastures  green." 

Moved  by  some  impulse  (  we  may  guess  what !  ) 
Deverell  moved  abruptly  forward.  Grasping  one 
of  Wilford's  hands  he  pressed  it  convulsively,  as 
he  exclaimed  fervently  :  "  Come  with  me,  Hylton  ! 
I  am  about  to  make  a  trip  West,  and  you  shall  be 
my  companion.  —  Afterward,  —  but  no  matter! 
Let  the  future  care  for  itself.  Remember  the 
proverb  :  Wisely  improve  the  present ;  it  is  thine. 
Oh  my  friend,  look  not  mournfully  into  the  past ! 
Let  those  who  have  sown  woeful  seed  reap  their 
own  bitter  harvest.  For  you  there  is  a  noble  life 
ahead.  —  Live  that  life  !  " 


WILFORD' S  SORROW.  97 

We  shall  think  none  the  less  of  our  fair-haired 
barrister  that  a  big  tear  stole  slowly  down  his 
cheek,  as  he  silently  heeded  that  exhortation; 
though  he  walked  toward  the  window  ashamed  of 
such  weakness,  for  this  was  the  first  tear  he  had 
ever  given  to  this  misery. 

"  And  your  story !  What  has  been  your  expe- 
rience during  these  years?"  Wilford  asked,  when 
they  were  both  calmer. 

"  I  have  never  realized  the  insignificance  of  my 
experience  so  acutely  as  now,  when  one  so  noble 
portrays  to  me  his  own.  My  life  has  been  one 
continuous  dolce  far  niente.  I  have  been  one  of 
Byron's  wanderers.  My  bark  has  drifted  down  the 
winding  Rhine,  sped  over  the  blue  Mediterranean, 
and  plowed  the  waters  of  two  oceans.  I  have 
viewed  the  wondrous  land  of  my  ancestors,  travelled 
from  the  Pyrenees  to  the  Ural  Mountains  on  that 
side,  —  from  the  Alleghanies  to  the  Rockies  on  the 
other ;  yet  I  am  restless  as  a  schoolboy,  and  feel 
that  I  should  have  been  thrice  happier  with  five-  m 
hundred  a  year,  a  fixed  purpose  in  life,  and  the 
conviction  that  I  had  furthered  someone's  welfare 
in  the  world  besides  my  own." 

"  But  you  will  marry  ?  You  have  a  splendid 
estate,  and  in  your  home  will  be  centred  the 
sweetest  ambitions  of  life,"  ventured  Wilford.  He 
dared  not  look  up,  and  waited  with  palpitating 
heart  for  Deverell's  response,  in  which  he  felt 
much  would  be  involved.  The  blood  mantled  his 


98  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

brow.  Something  swelled  in  his  throat,  and 
seemed  to  choke  him,  when  at  length  that  answer 
came. 

"  It  may  be  years  before  Deverell  Hall  sees  a 
new  mistress.  As  yet  I  have  but  vague  plans  in 
that  direction." 

His  words  contained  electric  power,  which 
brought  every  drop  of  blood  in  Hylton's  veins  to  a 
standstill.  For  a  moment  the  latter's  heart  almost 
ceased  beating.  Then  it  thumped  madly.  It 
seemed  to  him  that  Deverell  must  certainly  hear  the 
impatient  thuds,  and  unconsciously  he  thrust  one 
hand  beneath  his  waistcoat  and  clutched  it  over 
his  heart,  as  if  to  muffle  the  sound. 

By  a  supreme  effort  Hylton  spoke,  with  an  ill- 
assumed  smile :  "I  thought  it  not  unlikely  that 
the  dark-eyed  Siren  at  the  Grange,  —  that,  — 
that  our  Land  of  Flowers  offered  you  some  strong 
attraction."  He  forced  a  light  laugh  as  he  thus 
concluded. 

,  "The  relation  between  Mademoiselle  Weldon 
and  myself  is  by  no  means  serious,  be  assured. 
We  met  in  New  Orleans  last  winter;  and  as  I  was 
an  old  and  favored  acquaintance  of  Madame  Sey- 
mour, the  young  lady's  aunt,  we  l,ook  a  friendly 
interest  in  each  other,  —  that  is  all." 

He  spoke  hurriedly ;  and  this  precipitance  was 
sufficient  proof  to  Wilford  that  much  within  his 
friend's  bosom  was  left  unsaid. 

Soon   after,  Deverell    took    his   leave,   with   a 


WILFOHD'S  SORUOW. 


99 


promise  to  call  once  more  before  he  left  the 
neighborhood ;  then  they  would  discuss  arrange- 
ments for  their  Western  tour. 

"  He  does  not  suspect  the  truth  !  "  said  Wilford, 
returning  alone  to  his  room.  "  He  dreams  not  of 
her  treachery,  and  I  pray  Heaven  he  never  may! 
If  she  reap  bitter  fruit  from  her  own  nefarious 
planting,  mine  shall  not  be  the  tongue  to  sting  her, 
nor  mine  the  hand  to  slay  that  happiness  which  she 
would  fain  purchase  at  the  price  of  truth." 


iS'./f 


/  CHAPTER  XI. 

A    PROMISE. 

IF  there  should  come  a  time,  as  well  there  might, 
When  sudden  tribulation  smite  thine  heart, 
And  thou  dost  come  to  me  for  help  and  stay, 
Fear  not !  —  Thy  trial-hour  shall  be 
The  dearest  bond  between  my  heart  and  thee. 

WORDS  THAT  BURN. 

OVER  a  week  had  elapsed  since  Deverell's 
advent  at  Weldon,  and  since  the  night  on 
which  he  spoke  those  few  hurried  words  to  Hazel 
in  the  hallway,  which  Evelyn  overheard,  he  had 
never  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  child,  except  at 
table,  when  she  usually  occupied  her  accustomed 
place. 

Yes,  —  once  he  had  seen  her,  walking  with  her 
governess  along  the  forest-road,  close  by  a  large 
gateway,  through  which  Evelyn  and  he  passed  in 
the  pony  phaeton ;  but  then  he  could  only  exchange 
a  bow  and  friendly  smile  with  Hazel,  much  as  he 
longed  to  speak.  Did  this  lonely  orphan  purposely 
avoid  him?  and  wherefore?  These  questions 
oppressed  him. 

The  end  of  his  visit  was  approaching.     He  felt 

that  taking  his  departure  without  having  again 

spoken  to  the  young  girl  would  be  like  going  away 

with  the  fiercest  craving  of  his  heart  unsatisfied. 

(100) 


A  PROMISE.  101 

Perhaps  it  was  a  blessed  craving,  actuated  as  it 
was  by  undefined  dread  for  her  future,  and  a  wish 
to  assure  her  of  his  undying  friendship,  which  she 
might  claim  in  time  of  need. 

A  month  ago  —  nay,  only  a  week  —  Aubrey 
would  have  laughed  to  scorn  the  very  idea  of 
suffering  the  image  of  a  child  of  fifteen  summers 
to  take  such  complete  possession  of  his  thoughts, 
—  he,  the  observed  of  all  observers,  free  to  woo 
among  the  wealth  and  beauty  of  the  land  ! 

Perhaps  he  had  imagined  himself  in  love  more 
than  threescore  times ;  for  he  was  of  true  French 
blood,  never  contented  when  away  from  the  light 
of  woman's  eyes.  He  had  basked  in  that  light 
many  seasons  and  in  various  climes ;  yet  to  the 
charge  of  trifling,  which  some  of  the  fair  ones 
entered  against  him,  he  could  reply,  Not  guilty ! 
His  integrity  had  always  drawn  a  line  between 
frivolous  gallantry  and  reverence  for  woman.  Not 
once  had  he  overstepped  that  line. 

His  recent  infatuation  for  Miss  Weldon  had 
never  been  put  into  words;  yet  if  his  eyes  had 
betrayed  passionate  sentiments,  if  his  hand-clasps 
had  been  eloquent  of  more  than  friendship,  what 
then  ?  Truly  the  long  months  of  his  silence  toward 
Evelyn  had  been  months  of  severe  contest  between 
heart  and  reason.  His  visit  to  the  Grange  had 
been  impelled  by  the  resolution  to  ask  her  hand,  a 
proof  of  the.  profoundest  devotion  his  heart  had 
ever  known. 


102  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

Alas !  Of  this  devotion,  nothing  now  remained. 
His  idol  was  shattered.  With  the  assurance  of  Eve- 
lyn's falseness  of  character,  her  outward  charms, 
previously  so  seductive,  faded  into  nothingness. 
There  was  naught  but  deception  in  the  face  where 
he  once  saw  incarnate  beauty  and  purity. 

Monsieur  Deverell  now  viewed  as  in  the  "  hol- 
low mirror  of  remorse "  his  coming  thither.  He 
marked  the  sad  change  which  had  come  over 
Evelyn,  with  a  pain  which  made  him  suffer  some- 
what as  she  did. 

Her  face  was  now  wan,  and  dark  semicircles  lay 
beneath  the  eyes  which  had  shone  with  the  lustre 
of  woman's  pent-up  love.  Formerly  her  bosom 
was  in  tumult  when  he  was  near,  and  her  hand 
became  tremulous  when  his  own  came  into  acci- 
dental contact  with  it.  This  change  he  noted 
with  heartfelt  dismay,  and  he  pitied,  oh  how  he 
pitied  her !  Well  he  knew  that  her  strongest  love 
had  been  dedicated  to  himself ;  and  conscience 
told  him  he  had  deliberately  encouraged  that  love, 
by  seeking  her  companionship  in  her  own  home. 

Giant  shadows  of  self-reproach  haunted  him 
through  the  day.  With  Evelyn's  sad  features 
rising  before  him  in  the  dead  of  night,  banishing 
sleep  from  his  pillow,  he  wondered  if  it  were  not 
best  to  sacrifice  his  own  happiness  for  the  protec- 
tion of  hers,  —  if  it  would  not  be  best  to  speak 
words  that  would  make  him  her  liege  forever; 
but  with  a  new  day  his  self-interested  reason  would 


A  PROMISE.  103 

return.  He  told  himself  that  if  a  woman  were 
capable  of  betraying  the  parents,  the  treason 
within  her  must  be  hard  to  overcome,  and  she 
might  be  faithless  to  him.  He  remembered  Bra- 
bantio's  words  to  Othello : 

Look  to  her,  Moor !    Have  a  quick  eye  to  see ! 
She  has  deceived  her  father,  and  may  thee  I 

This  fatal  germ  might  spread  within  her  nature, 
until  she  became  a  very  demon ! 

Meanwhile  Evelyn's  mind  became  less  tranquil 
with  each  passing  hour.  Night  after  night  she  lay 
with  arid  eyes  riveted  on  the  impenetrable  gloom, 
her  misplaced  faith  creating  sprites  who  whispered : 
"  On  the  morrow  he  will  speak !  Be  comforted ! 
Yes,  on  the  morrow !  " 

As  day  succeeded  day,  and  Aubrey's  visit 
lengthened  into  almost  another  week,  —  a  week 
which  seemed  a  year  in  Evelyn's  life,  —  and  still 
he  was  silent,  she  began  to  relinquish  her  trust  in 
the  nameless  phantoms  which  hovered  about  her 
pillow,  and  to  accept  the  truth  in  its  bare  horror. 

"  He  does  not  love  me !  "  Despite  her  mad 
desire  to  crush  this  thought,  it  raged  like  a  crested 
reptile  from  morn  till  night,  from  night  till  morn 
again,  until  at  length  Evelyn  found  herself  crouch- 
ing before  this  disappointment  like  a  leopardess  at 
bay. 

How  endlessly  the, years  stretched  out  before 
her,  as  she  began  to  look  the  future  in  the  face, 
and  to  imagine  some  other  woman  in  Deverell 


104  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

Hall !  Now  it  was  that  the  beautiful  face  of  her 
foster-sister  rose  in  jealous  thought,  as  if  to  incite 
Evelyn  to  mental  wickedness,  amounting  almost  to 
crime  ;  for  she  believed  that  in  that  pretty  face 
alone  lay  the  barrier  between  herself  and  supreme 
happiness. 

It  was  Friday  evening.  The  following  day 
Aubrey  had  fixed  for  leave-taking.  He  was  to 
join  his  friend  Hylton  in  Tallahassee  on  Sunday, 
whence  they  would  go  to  New  Orleans,  there 
to  perfect  arrangements  for  their  travels  on  the 
Pacific  Coast. 

These  plans  were  really  of  recent  contemplation 
with  Aubrey;  for  on  leaving  New  Orleans,  less 
than  a  month  before,  his  mind  had  pictured  scenes 
in  which  only  a  lovely  bride  and  ardent  groom 
figured ;  but  these  scenes  had  vanished  into  thin 
air.  Instead  of  the  same  aspiring  young  French- 
man, he  was  now  as  grave  and  preoccupied  as 
some  savant,  who  has  become  such  an  enigma  to 
himself,  as  to  wonder  if  it  would  not  be  well  for 
him  to  enter  some  disciplinary  convent. 

It  was  seeing  his  college  friend  so  cast  down, 
that  brought  the  first  idea  of  going  West  to 
Aubrey ;  but  the  proposal  having  grown  into  a 
rooted  project  between  them,  he  hoped  the  diver- 
sion would  prove  a  means  of  reviving  their  depressed 
spirits,  so  that  both  would  gradually  forget  their 
respective  heart-affairs,  so  very  closely  related, 


A  PROMISE.  105 

though  neither  of  the  two  friends  knew  the  main- 
spring of  the  other's  story. 

A  warm  rain  had  been  falling  in  intermittent 
showers  since  morning.  On  this  Friday  Evelyn 
and  her  guest  had  therefore  been  confined  indoors 
all  day  ;  but  as  evening  came  on,  the  rain  abated, 
and  only  a  few  silver-faced  clouds  remained. 
Fleet-winged  birds  scurried  home  to  their  mates, 
and  the  day  died  with  a  sunset  startling  in  its 
grandeur.  Such  a  rainbow  as  is  only  seen  in 
southern  skies  had  spanned  the  horizon ;  but  the 
clouds  were  transformed  into  mingled  amethyst  and 
gold,  spreading  themselves  over  the  western  border, 
and  gradually  absorbing  that  beautiful  scarf  of 
promise,  until  it  seemed  as  if  the  Judgment  Day 
was  harbingered  by  a  sea  of  fire. 

Deverell  had  been  standing  alone  on  the  front 
veranda,  watching  this  gorgeous  spectacle  with 
breathless  delight.  He  liked  to  watch  the  vivid 
coloring  fade,  even  as  he  had  liked  to  watch  its 
beginning ;  and  it  was  only  when  a  few  opal  flecks 
alone  remained  that,  with  a  deep-drawn  sigh,  he 
descended  the  steps,  and  sauntered  slowly  up  and 
down  the  garden  walk. 

Having  lit  a  cigar  he  clasped  his  hands  absently 
behind  him,  and  gave  himself  up  to  meditation 
about  his  journey.  In  less  than  twenty-four  hours 
he  must  say  adieu  to  little  Hazel!  Would  this 
be  a  final  farewell  between  them?  Would  the 
mystery  surrounding  her  young  life  ever  be  solved  ? 
If  so,  by  whom  ? 


106  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

Was  there  a  person  in  existence  who  could  or 
would  assume  the  right  to  fathom  her  past,  and 
bring  the  secret  of  her  origin  to  light  ?  Oh,  that 
he  himself  might  claim  so  gracious  a  mission ! 
But  to  do  so  would  be  to  forfeit  that  which  he 
held  dearer  than  life  itself,  his  honor  !  This  was 
involved  in  his  pledge  of  silence  to  Evelyn.  If 
some  day  Hazel  should  be  brought  to  give  up  the 
worthy  friends  she  enjoyed  in  the  Weldons,  what 
then?  Would  her  foster-sister  then  tell  her  all, 
and  in  so  doing  condemn  her  own  soul  to  torment  ? 

With  this  thought  a  vague  terror  seized  the 
thinker ;  and  this  was  accompanied  by  the  fierce 
craving  to  see  and  speak  with  Hazel,  —  to  beseech 
her  to  rely  upon  him  in  any  time  of  tribulation. 

So  overmastering  was»this  desire  that  his  pulse 
began  to  flutter  passionately,  and  he  could  distinctly 
hear  his  own  heartthrobs.  Could  his  surmise  be  a 
forecast  of  some  disastrous  cloud  drifting  close 
upon  Weld  on  Grange  ? 

Where  was  Hazel  ?  In  what  direction  could  he 
turn  to  find  her  ?  Was  it  in  answer  to  this  cry 
of  his  inmost  soul  that,  as  he  passed  beneath  a 
window,  he  heard  the  sob  of  someone  in  distress  ? 

Involuntarily  he  paused.  Above  these  half- 
stifled  throes  he  heard  another  voice,  speaking  in 
hot  impassioned  tones :  "  So  you  have  suddenly 
developed  a  liking  for  poetry  !  "  Something  like 
a  hiss  followed.  "  I  would  to  God  the  waters  of 
that  pool  yonder  had  closed  over  you  forever. 


A  PROMISE.  107 

before  that  fatal  morning  !  Impostor  !  Snake  !  — 
There !     How    I .  should  love  to    serve    you    like 
that!" 

Something  came  whirring  through  the  open 
window,  beneath  which  Aubrey  stood,  —  a  book 
in  dainty  green  and  gold,  which  fell  upon  the  wet 
grass  almost  at  his  feet.  He  caught  it  up  and 
pressed  his  lips  passionately  upon  the  cover, 
whereon  his  quick  eye  saw  the  title,  Lady  of  the 
Lake. 

"  Hazel  has  been  reading  this  !  "  The  thought 
sent  a  glad  thrill  through  him.  Placing  the  vol- 
ume in  his  breast-pocket  he  once  more  inclined  his 
ear  to  listen,  feeling  no  twinge  of  conscience  as  he 
did  so,  but  telling  himself  rather  that  some  good 
angel  must  have  guided  his  footsteps. 

The  voice,  which  he  of  course  recognized  as 
Evelyn's,  could  be  heard  no  longer ;  but  the  pite- 
ous sobs  grew  louder  and  more  convulsive,  as  did 
also  the  tumult  of  his  Gallic  heart.  How  he  longed 
to  leap  through  that  window,  and  avow  himself  to 
Hazel  Verne  as  her  sworn  defender ! 

Scarce  had  this  longing  been  formed,  when  sud- 
denly a  face  appeared  at  the  window,  —  Hazel's  ! 
She  retreated  swiftly  on  seeing  him,  for  according 
to  the  maxim,  "  the  heart  waits  not  the  guidance 
of  the  senses."  Aubrey,  instead  of  moving  out  of 
her  sight,  stood  looking  up  now  with  sympathetic 
eyes. 

Hazel  was  in  deshabille,  having  just  begun  her 


108  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

toilet  for  dinner  when  Evelyn  entered  her  room, 
and  this  cruel  scene  followed.  Her  gold-brown 
hair  was  unbound,  and  rippled  about  her  shoulders 
like  a  halo,  and  she  wore  a  loose  dressing-gown  of 
palish-tinted  blue.  She  stood  with  her  small 
hands  clasped  appealingly,  her  sweet  lips  quivering 
slightly  apart,  while  unspeakable  anguish  and  fear 
shone  through  her  tears. 

Never  until  this  moment  had  Deverell  cherished 
an  unmanly  feeling  toward  womankind.  If  in  his 
inmost  heart  he  cursed  the  woman  who  had  in- 
flicted such  pain  upon  a  young  innocent,  who 
can  censure  him? 

Taking  a  quick  step  forward  he  climbed  the 
strong  trellis  to  the  low  piazza-roof,  laid  one  hand 
upon  the  window-ledge,  and  whispered  as  he  saw 
her  shrink  away :  "  Do .  not  turn  from  me,  Hazel ! 
I  have  heard  all.  I  have  been  listening,  though 
I  did  not  mean  it,  believe  me !  Oh  petite  amie,  I 
entreat  you,  do  not  let  such  words  grieve  you ! 
They  are  unworthy  your  tears.  They  were  un- 
womanly, cruel,  unjust ;  but  she  did  not  mean 
them,  I  am  sure  she  did  not !  So  dry  your  tears 
and  come  nearer  me." 

"That  is  right,"  he  added,  as  the  girl  obeyed 
him,  with  something  of  the  confidence  of  a  startled 
fawn.  "Now  tell  me,  little  one,"  he  continued, 
"  where  you  have  been  hiding  all  these  days  ? " 
He  spoke  hurriedly,  hoping  to  divert  her  thoughts 
from  her  present  grief;  and  this  he  did  for  a 
moment. 


A  PROMISE.  109 

"  Hiding  ? "  repeated  Hazel,  as  a  faint  smile 
broke  through  her  tears,  like  the  sun  through  a 
mist- veil.  "  Why,  monsieur,  I  have  not  been  hid- 
ing !  Arline,  my  governess,  will  go  to  the  seashore 
next  month,  to  take  her  summer's  vacation,  and  I 
have  been  busy  preparing  my  French  review ;  but 
monsieur,  please, — my  hair,  —  I  had  just  begun 
my  toilet,  — 

"  I  like  to  see  you  like  this,"  he  interrupted 
quickly,  noting  her  swift  discomfiture  and  vivid 
blush,  as  she  raised  one  half-bared  arm  to  her 
head,  where,  amidst  the  meshes  of  bronze,  a  white 
comb  clung  caressingly.  "  You  remind  me  now  of 
a  picture  that  hangs  in  the  gallery  at  Deverell 
Hall.  It  is  called  the  Sunshine  of  Saint  Eulalie. 
Some  day  you  shall  see  it. 

"  But  see ! "  he  added  abruptly,  "  I  saved  your 
book  from  being  ruined  utterly.  It  fell  upon  the 
damp  grass,  but  it  is  damaged  very  little."  Smil- 
ingly he  handed  the  volume  toward  her. 

"  Oh  monsieur,  how  shall  I  thank  you !  The 
book  is  Arline's,  and  I  feared  it  would  be  hurt," 
cried  Hazel,  gladly  extending  her  hand  to  grasp 
the  treasure. 

Before  relinquishing  it  Aubrey  caught  her  hand, 
clasping  it  within  both  his  own,  he  did  not  know 
how  closely.  He  felt  that  the  time  had  come 
when  he  might  speak  the  words  he  so  longed  to 
speak.  Conscious  how  the  precious  moments  were 
flying  he  began,  with  a  voice  wherein  agitation 
revealed  itself  all  too  plainly. 


110  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

"  Hazel,  I  have  wished  for  this  moment !  To- 
morrow I  must  say  adieu  to  you ;  but  before 
going  I  want  to  win  a  little  promise  from  your 
lips,  —  so  little,  indeed,  that  I  know  you  can  not 
refuse  to  grant  it.  You  are  so  young,  Hazel,  and 
without  parental  love.  You  have  kind  and  loving 
friends  in  your  aunt  and  uncle  ;  but,  little  one,  the 
future  is  so  uncertain !  These  fond  relatives  may 
be  snatched  from  you.  Should  such  a  thing 
happen,  there  will  be  need  of  other  friends  to  take 
their  places.  Then  will  you  think  of  me,  Hazel? 
Will  you  turn  to  me  as  to  a  brother,  who  would 
serve  you,  even  at  the  peril  of  his  life  ?  " 

Hazel  hesitated,  trembling  perceptibly,  as  a 
terrified  look  crept  into  her  face. 

"  Aunty  and  uncle  taken  from  me !  Oh  mon- 
sieur ! "  she  cried  huskily ;  whereupon  Monsieur 
Aubrey  released  her  hand,  filled  with  grief  at 
having  caused  her  a  moment's  sorrow. 

Realizing  that  the  import  of  his  words  was  too 
weighty  for  a  mind  so  inexperienced,  he  hastened 
to  modify  them,  saying  with  gentle  ardor :  "  For- 
give me  if  I  have  distressed  you !  Do  not  think 
again  of  my  words.  I  do  not  think  there  is  a  likeli- 
hood of  your  ever  having  to  sacrifice  those  whom 
you  love  so  dearly.  I  wish  merely  to  impress  you 
with  the  warmth  of  my  interest  in  your  future 
welfare.  Now,"  seeing  the  tear-stained  face  begin 
to  brighten  again,  "  will  you  not  repeat  after  me 
these  words,  simple  in  themselves,  yet  significant 


A  PROMISE.  Ill 

of  much,  —  will  you  not  say,  I  will  trust  you^ 
mon  ami  ?  " 

"  Oh  mon  c/ier  ami  !  You  are  all  that  is  noble 
and  good !  I  feel  that  you  are,  and  I  cfo,  —  I  shall 
always  trust  you  !  " 

Her  face  was  bright  with  the  fervor  of  her 
words,  and  her  eyes  met  his  with  filial  confidence. 

He  held  them  with  his  glance  for  one  brief 
moment.  Then  he  bowed  low  over  her  little  hand 
outstretched  to  him,  merely  touching  the  delicate 
finger-tips  with  his  lips,  and  murmuring:  "God 
bless  you!"  after  which  he  turned  and  walked 
quickly  away,  to  hide  the  emotion  which  her  words 
had  called  forth.  He  had  gained  far  more  than  he 
had  hoped  for ! 


CHAPTER  XII. 

ADIEUX. 

HE  shall  find  no  fiend  in  hell  can  match  the  fury 

of  a  disappointed  woman !  — 

Scorned!  slighted!  .dismissed  without  a  parting  pang! 

GIBBER. 

BEAUTIFUL  as  a  siren  looked  Evelyn  Weldon 
as  she  drove  her  guest  to  the  station  on 
Saturday  afternoon.  Her  perfect-fitting  dTess  of 
gray  camel's-hair  was  enlivened  by  a  huge  cluster 
of  scarlet  poppies,  worn  at  the  belt;  while  her 
large  Gainsborough,  also  gray,  was  trimmed  with 
ostrich  plumes,  which  swept  over  her  shoulder, 
lending  a  soft  radiance  to  her  face,  otherwise 
colorless  as  ivory. 

No  spark  of  the  old  lovelight  shone  from  Au- 
brey's eyes,  as  he  turned  them  passively  upon  her, 
saying  that  he  had  passed  a  most  enjoyable  week, 
and  was  deeply  indebted  to  mademoiselle  and 
madame  for  their  hospitality,  —  that  sometime  in 
the  future  he  hoped  to  reciprocate  by  entertaining 
them  in  New  Orleans,  while  Deverell  Hall  was 
open  to  them  at  any  time  they  might  choose  to 
make  themselves  his  guests. 

He  meant  no  cruel  thrust.  His  feeling  was  one 
of  contempt,  not  cruelty.  His  visit  to  the  Grange 
(112) 


ADIEU X.  113 

had  been  most  informal.  He  had  even  presumed 
to  offer  himself  as  a  guest,  after  a  protracted 
silence  between  himself  and  the  daughter  of  the 
house,  —  the  only  inmate  thereof  whom  he  had 
ever  met.  What  then,  seeing  that  his  past  atten- 
tions had  been  suggestive  of  something  deeper 
than  friendship,  could  this  visit  have  portended  to 
Evelyn,  if  not  a  continuation,  perhaps  a  culmina- 
tion, of  their  tenderness  ? 

He  now  felt  that  he  had  virtually  proven  him- 
self a  craven  in  Evelyn's  eyes ;  and  that  in  this 
clumsy  attempt  to  extricate  himself  from  a  dilemma 
so  embarrassing  to  both,  he  must  appear  a  double 
deceiver. 

How  could  he  be  so  sacrilegious  as  to  invite  her 
to  Deverell  Hall,  after  what  had  transpired!  It 
was  as  though  a  mighty  chasm  yawned  between 
them,  —  he  safe-footed  on  one  side,  she  unsteady 
on  the  other,  looking  to  him  for  succor  which  he 
refused  to  grant,  while  with  folded  arms  he  dared 
her  to  leap  the  abyss,  though  well  aware  that  she 
would  die  rather  than  attempt  it. 

Truly  Evelyn  was  to  be  pitied.  She  lowered 
her  head,  in  order  to  hide  the  misery  aroused  by 
his  words,  and  her  soul  writhed  in  bitterness. 

"  He  has  deliberately  sought  my  heart  as  a  toy, 
to  be  picked  up  and  discarded  at  his  pleasure !  " 
This  thought  compelled  an  audible  groan  as  they 
came  in  sight  of  the  railway. 

Monsieur  Deverell  saw  her  hands  tremble,  like 


114  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

the  fibres  of  her  plumes,  as  she  tightened  her 
hold  upon  the  reins,  and  guided  Alcides  around 
the  last  corner.  In  after  years  he  never  forgot 
the  agony  depicted  on  her  countenance,  when  the 
moment  came  for  their  exchange  of  farewells. 
Taking  her  hand,  whose  coldness  he  felt  even 
through  its  thick  gauntlet,  he  saw  her  lips  tremble, 
as  they  faltered,  "  Adieu  monsieur ! " 

For  a  moment  remorse  and  compassion  nearly 
overmastered  him.  His  hand  closed  convulsively 
around  hers.  Rapidly  he  formed  a  fierce  resolu- 
tion, a  sacrificial  determination.  The  irrevocable 
question  was  on  the  verge  of  utterance :  "  Evelyn, 
will  you  become  my  wife  ? "  when,  like  a  flash,  a 
face  with  tearful  eyes  rose  between  them,  making 
him  exclaim  aloud  in  his  agitation,  "  Man  Dieu!" 
The  blue  veins  about  his  temples  swelled  almost 
to  bursting,  and  drops  of  perspiration  started  from 
his  brow,  as  once  again  he  heard  the  cruel  words 
Evelyn  had  used  toward  poor  Hazel :  "  I  would 
the  waters* of  that  pool  yonder  had  closed  over 
you  forever  !  " 

At  this  instant  there  was  a  scream  from  the 
locomotive,  and  the  cry  of  All  aboard! 

"  Adieu,  adieu,  Mademoiselle  Evelyn  !  "  he  said 
huskily,  as  with  another  spasmodic  hand-pressure 
he  hurried  forward,  and  swung  himself  upon  the 
last  platform  of  the  moving  train. 

Then  he  glanced  back,  waving  his  hand  toward 
her;  but  she  made  no  answering  gesture.  She 


ADIEUX.  115 

might  have  been  a  carved  statue  sitting  upright  in 
the  phaeton,  though  her  face  was  turned  toward 
him,  and  her  eyes  glittered  vindictively. 

When  Aubrey  was  seated  in  the  smoking-car  he 
threw  open  the  window  and  looked  back  over  the 
road,  hoping  to  catch  a  last  glimpse  of  Evelyn, 
that  he  might  wave  yet  another  signal  of  farewell. 
No  trace  of  phaeton  or  driver  was  at  first  visible ; 
yet,  as  he  continued  to  gaze,  suddenly,  through  an 
abrupt  opening  in  the  woods,  he  saw  Alcides 
flying  over  the  dusty  road,  urged  to  this  speed  by 
frequent  applications  of  the  lash.  Deverell  gazed 
spellbound,  until  all  sight  of  Alcides  was  lost,  and 
also  of  the  red  plumes  of  his  mistress. 

Settling  into  his  seat,  Aubrey  bought  a  late 
Tallahassee  Journal ;  and  he  opened  it,  but  not  to 
read,  His  eyes  rested  vacantly  upon  the  same 
unread  paragraph  until  the  sun  had  set.  Twilight, 
so  brief  in  southern  skies,  closed  in,  and  at  length 
the  brakeman  passed  through  to  light  the  lamps ; 
but  Aubrey  remained  oblivious  of  all  save  his 
thoughts  of  the  "child  of  mystery." 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

A    TELEGRAM. 

FATE  leads  us  blindfold  at  nightfall  to  the  edge  of  the 
abyss  of  the  morrow,  and  we  know  not  what  one  step  may 
bring  to  pass. 

POOR  Alcides !  Rarely  before  had  this  beau- 
tiful creature  known  a  sting  of  the  lash,  and 
his  gentle  flesh  quivered  under  cruel  blows,  which 
left  welts  on  his  silvery  coat,  with  here  and  there  a 
bloodstain.  Foamy  flakes  issued  from  his  nostrils, 
and  fell  behind  to  mingle  with  the  dust. 

On,  on,  madly  on,  Evelyn  urged  him,  seemingly 
to  inevitable  death.  Pardon  this  inhumanity ! 
She  was  mad,  drunk  with  the  fury  of  disappoint- 
ment, and  hardly  responsible  for  her  deed.  For 
years  she  had  fondled  and  humored  Alcides,  as 
she  might  a  child,  and  would  have  fought  with 
one  who  dared  maltreat  him;  but  now  a  wicked 
determination  was  kindled  within  her,  whose  fierce- 
ness involved  moral  blindness.  Not  until  she 
reached  the  Grange  did  Evelyn  take  note  of  her 
horse's  deplorable  condition. 

She  was  then  met  by  Noel.     Attracted  by  the 

sound  of  rapidly  approaching  wheels  he  came  from 

the   stable   yard   to   see  who  it   might   be,  little 

dreaming   his   young   mistress   was   returning   so 

(116) 


A   TELEGRAM.  117 

soon.  With  a  loud  exclamation  of  astonishment 
he  opened  the  gate ;  and  as  Evelyn  drove  through, 
a  cry  of  horror  escaped  him.  "  Lo'd  o'  my  soul, 
Missy  Eb'lyn,  dat  ah  hoss  done  ben  his  las'  trip ! 
Yeheahsme?" 

As  his  young  lady  mechanically  handed  him 
whip  and  reins,  and  jumped  out  unassisted,  he 
resumed,  with  growing  anger :  "  Chile,  has  n't  yer 
got  no  feelin',  't  yer  lashes  a  poo'  animole,  un' 
makes  him  sweat  un'  foam  un'  breed  at  de  mouf, 
like  as  him 's  made  o'  wood  ?  Un'  yer  alluz  makes 
fight  as  when  I  currys  him  down  a  leetle  too  rough 
like !  Now  look  ee  yah,  if  dat  would  'n  bring  de 
teahs  to  Marsa  Wel'on's  eyes,  den  dis  yah  coon 
don't  know  wat's  brack  nor  wat's  wite,  dat's 
all ! " 

If  this  semi-insolence  had  been  provoked  by  any 
other  incentive,  Evelyn  would  have  loftily  checked 
the  hostler's  words,  and  perhaps  ordered  some 
severe  punishment  for  the  bold  negro ;  but  when 
she  saw  her  beloved  horse  panting,  foaming, 
bleeding  at  the  mouth,  —  where  the  bit  had  made 
ugly  gashes,  —  she  was  mute  with  remorse.  Per- 
haps she  had  killed  her  favorite ! 

"  Into  the  stables,  Noel,  and  attend  him  well," 
she  said  anxiously,  as  he  took  Alcides  from  the 
shafts.  "  Be  sure  and  attend  him  well ! "  she 
repeated,  "  and  you  shall  receive  extra  silver  this 
month." 

"  If  'tendin'  '11  do  any  good  !  "  returned  the  man 


118  '     THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

dubiously ;  "  but  if  you  ain't  had  yo'  las'  ride  on 
Alcides,  den  I 's  missed  my  reckin',  dat's  all."  He 
spoke  doggedly,  realizing  his  present  importance, 
and  quick  to  take  advantage  of  it ;  but  Evelyn  did 
not  heed  his  last  remark,  for  she  was  on  her  way 
into  the  house. 

She  at  once  went  to  the  family  sitting-room, 
where  her  mother  was  almost  sure  to  be  found  at 
this  hour.  Mrs.  Weldon  looked  up  in  amazement 
as  her  daughter  entered.  "  Why  dear,  back  so 
soon?  You  have  scarce  been  gone  two  hours. 
You  must  have  driven  fast." 

"  The  roads  are  in  fine  order,  and  I  enjoy  swift 
driving,"  said  Evelyn  evasively ;  and  not  until  she 
removed  her  large  hat  did  her  mother  observe  the 
paleness  of  her  face.  "  Why  Evelyn,"  she  then 
cried,  "  are  you  ill  ?  " 

Evelyn  tossed  aside  her  gauntlets,  dropped 
languidly  into  a  chair  near  Mrs.  Weldon,  and 
repeated  sarcastically,  "  Am  I  ill !  "  Her  words 
were  followed  by  a  laugh  so  wild  as  to  evoke  an 
involuntary  gasp  from  the  anxious  mother,  who 
gazed  for  a  moment  into  the  hard  face  before  her, 
ere  she  could  bring  herself  to  speak  again. 

"  Evelyn,  my  dear,  you  are  disappointed !  "  she 
at  last  ventured  to  say,  in  a  sympathetic  voice. 
"  Oh,"  she  went  on  tremulously,  "  I  am  so  grieved 
to  see  you  thus !  —  I  warned  you !  " 

Although  these  last  words  were  spoken  in  that 
tone  of  gentle  reasoning  which  only  comes  from 


A   TELEGRAM.  119 

a  true  mother,  they  called  a  quick  flush  to  Evelyn's 
face. 

"  You  are  prejudiced,  mamma,  and  have  been, 
from  the  first.  I  shall  not  listen!  You  warned 
me  ?  Yes,  you  warned  me,  through  your  biased 
views  of  Aubrey's  past  attentions  to  me ;  but  of 
these  you  were  absolutely  ignorant !  You  really 
know  nothing  about  our  past  relations.  Your  ideas 
are  gleaned  from  Aunt  Lydia's  letters,  and  she 
merely  stated  her  conclusions,  not  the  facts.  To 
me  Monsieur  Deverell's  recent  visit  to  Weldon 
Grange  bore  but  one  interpretation,  which  was 
palpable  enough  on  the  evening  of  his  arrival ;  and 
this  purpose  would  have  been  carried  out,  but  for 
a  little  episode  down  by  the  lake  the  next  morning. 
Hazel  Verne's  face  in  an  instant  divided  our  lives, 
his  and  mine.  If  you  failed  to  see  the  change  in 
him  from  that  hour,  you  must  have  been  blind. 
Perhaps  you  closed  your  eyes  to  the  pathetic 
picture  of  your  foster-child  on  a  certain  night, 
when  she  crept  so  stealthily  into  the  parlor  as 
monsieur  was  singing ;  or,  if  you  saw  it,  you  would 
doubtless  explain  her  emotion  by  her  great  love  of 
music !  I  claim,  on  the  other  hand,  that  this  very 
emotion  was  conjured  up,  as  a  silent  but  eloquent 
appeal  to  his  heart.  Oh,  her  scheme  succeeded,  — 
how  well  it  succeeded  !  " 

Another  hard  laugh  followed,  as  Evelyn  recalled 
the  little  scene  she  had  witnessed  in  the  hall 
between  Aubrey  and  Hazel. 


120  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

"  Evelyn,  you  are  mad !  Such  intrigue  would 
be  inconsistent  with  the  child's  years !  She  is 
little  more  than  a  child,  and  has  no  thought  of 
such  a  sentiment !  You  are  heartlessly  unfair  in 
your  censure ! " 

Mrs.  Weldon  spoke  with  quiet  severity,  but  she 
felt  a  dull  pain  at  her  heart,  and  compressed  her 
lips  firmly,  to  suppress  the  rising  sobs. 

"  So  you  contend  that  Hazel's  trip  to  the  lake 
that  morning  was  devoid  of  any  motive  inconsistent 
with  her  age,"  went  on  the  other  remorselessly; 
"  but  I  am  doubly  convinced  of  your  error.  Won- 
dering why  Hazel  kept  her  room  so  closely  after 
study-hours,  I  questioned  Arline,  and  learned  that 
her  pupil  had  suddenly  become  very  much  absorbed 
in  Scott's  poems.  I  went  straight  to  Hazel's  room. 
As  I  expected,  I  found  her  pouring  over  The  Lady 
of  the  Lake,  which  seems  to  have  received  an 
irresistible  charm  since  her  first  meeting  with 
Aubrey,  when  he  applied  to  her  the  very  romantic 
title  of  Ma  petite  Lady  of  the  Lake!  Very 
charming,  I  admit.  So  you  see,  mamma,  it  is 
useless  asking  me  to  agree  with  you  about  your 
guileless  foster-child.  She  is  a  precocious  actress, — 
one  peculiarly  well  qualified  to  execute  the  role 
of  enchantress !  " 

"  Evelyn,  I  implore  you,  — 

"  She  has  wilfully  undermined  my  happiness,  — 
the  one  ambition  of  my  heart.  But  for  this  I 
might  have  brought  myself  at  last  to  tolerate  her. 


A    TELEGRAM.  121 

Now,  even  to  live  under  the  same  roof  with  her 
will  be  unbearable.  My  chief  motive  in  speaking 
now  is  to  say  that  either  she  or  I  must  leave  the 
Grange,  and  at  once." 

"  Dear  Heaven,  that  it  should  come  to  this ! " 
wailed  the  mother,  pressing  one  hand  against  her 
heart,  while  the  other  was  uplifted  beseechingly. 

Mrs.  Weldon  would  have  said  more,  had  not 
Evelyn  interposed :  "  Spare  yourself  undue  pain, 
mother!  My  own  is  enough.  It  is  deeper  than 
you  will  ever  know.  I  love  Aubrey  Deverell  I 
Only  Heaven  knows  the  fulness  of  my  love  for 
him!  Long  ago  I  gave  him  my  heart.  After  a 
secret  struggle,  when  I  believed  my  love  unre- 
quited, I  succeeded  in  living  it  down.  I  called 
myself  a  fool,  for  nurturing  so  deep  a  regard 
toward  one  whom  I  had  known  but  a  brief  season, 
and  finally  I  conquered  myself.  I  brought  myself 
to  see  the  world  almost  as  I  had  seen  it  before  I 
ever  met  Aubrey.  Then  came  his  letter,  to  raise 
again  my  buried  hopes !  You  know  what  followed, 
mother.  Aubrey  came  next  day;  and  on  the 
evening  of  his  arrival  he  told  me,  in  all  but  words, 
that  mine  had  been  the  correct  interpretation  of 
his  coming,  —  that  he  loved  me  !  My  eyes  would 
not  close  themselves  that  night,  for  the  joy  this 
confession  brought  to  me.  The  darkness  was  alive 
with  glowing  pictures  of  happiness  in  store  for 
me.  —  The  morrow  was  scarcely  born  when  the 
wrecker  came,  —  the  mermaid  with  blue  eyes  and 


122  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

fair  hair,  the  Lorelei  of  my  destruction.  From 
the  hour  he  looked  into  Hazel's  face,  Aubrey 
was  changed.  He  began  treating  me  with  studied 
politeness,  and  then  with  a  coldness  that  almost 
killed  me." 

Here  Evelyn  stifled  a  sob,  and  then  added : 
"  Now,  mamma,  I  have  uncovered  my  heart  to 
you,  and  I  am  done.  My  soul's  bitterness  towards 
that  girl,  no  words  can  fathom.  Let  your  own 
heart  decide  which  of  us  shall  go.  You  might 
place  her  in  a  convent  until  she  comes  of  age." 

Mrs.  Weldon  was  weeping,  weeping  unrestrain- 
edly, —  partly  through  compassion  for  her  wayward 
daughter,  partly  from  love  for  her  foster-child. 
She  could  not  for  a  moment  believe  to  be  true  the 
words  applied  to  Hazel.  She  knew  they  were  the 
imagery  of  a  jealous  brain.  This  thought  soon 
became  a  vigorous  protest. 

The  tears  were  dried  in  Mrs.  Weldon's  eyes  at 
length,  and  she  looked  up,  saying  with  a  new 
sternness :  "  Evelyn,  your  love  has  been  defeated, 
and  consequently  you  think  you  must  blame  some- 
body besides  yourself.  Your  feelings  toward  my 
niece  are  wicked.  They  grow  from  such  trifles 
as  create  in  me  no  distrust  of  Hazel.  I  can  not 
consider  seriously  your  wish  for  a  separation. 
Yours  is  a  wild  proposition,  and  redounds  to  your 
discredit.  How  could  you  imagine  me  capable 
of  conceding  so  much  to  your  demand?  Your 
wish  to  have  me  send  Hazel  from  the  Grange  is  a 
direct  insult  to  me." 


A   TELEGRAM.  123 

"  Your  concession  will  signify  little  after  another 
month,"  returned  Evelyn,  grasping  the  rod  more 
firmly  at  her  mother's  words.  "On  the  twenty- 
fifth  of  July  I  shall  attain  my  twenty-first  birthday, 
and  then  I  shall  no  longer  be  amenable  to  parental 
discipline,  nor  doomed  to  a  life  of  seclusion.  I  can 
choose  my  own  pathway !  " 

"  Your  reasoning  is  just,  Evelyn.  Nevertheless, 
parental  authority  must  be  respected,  or  else  a 
child  is  liable  to  the  penalty  of  a  worse  exile  than 
you  name.  Your  father  has  been  a  true  parent; 
but  his  heart,  if  once  hardened,  would  be  as  unfor- 
giving towards  disloyalty,  as  it  is  now  tender 
towards  the  only  living  issue  of  our  marriage." 

Mrs.  Weldon  was  pained;  for  speaking  such 
words  to  her  beloved  child  was  like  a  distressing 
dream. 

The  agony  in  the  mother's  heart  was  growing 
unbearable,  yet  Evelyn  persisted :  "  Beggary  would 
be  preferable  to  daily  contact  with  one  I  loathe,  a 
reptile.  I  had  rather  work  for  bread,  than  eat  at 
the  same  table  with  her  day  after  day.  My  father 
will  doubtless  give  her  half  his  fortune  !  Why 
not  make  her  his  sole  heiress,  and  let  me  take 
what  ought  to  be  her  place  in  the  world,  —  what 
would  be,  but  for  charity !  —  walking  the  streets, 
a  nameless,  homeless,  hungry  girl.  The  object  of 
your  benevolence  has  found  a  warmer  place  in  my 
father's  heart  than  I  ever  held  there,  and  I  am 
certain  what  election  he  would  make  between  us." 


124  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

She  paused,  her  gaze  fixed  on  the  grief-blanched 
face  before  her,  —  a  face  which  suffering  seemed 
to  have  furrowed  deeper  during  the  last  half -hour. 

Did  this  poor  mother  hear  aright  ?  Were  the 
words  nameless,  homeless,  hungry  heard  in  a 
dream  ?  No,  no !  They  were  real ;  but  surely 
they  were  spoken  at  random.  They  were  merely 
the  outburst  of  a  fevered  brain,  like  all  Evelyn's 
speeches  that  day.  How  could  it  be  otherwise  ? 
How  could  Evelyn  know  aught  concerning  the 
doubtfulness  of  Hazel's  birth  ?  This  was  the 
religious  secret  of  Mrs.  Weldon  and  her  dear 
husband.  During  four  long  years  they  had 
guarded  in  their  bosoms  the  death-trust  of  Henry 
Verne.  Not  once  had  they  debated  that  trust 
between  them.  Even  when  alone  in  their  chamber 
they  rarely  alluded  to  it ;  for  they  held  it  as  too 
sacred  for  careless  reference. 

Thus  Mrs.  Weldon  argued  with  herself  amidst 
the  strained  silence  which  ensued,  and  she  half- 
resolved  to  let  Evelyn's  words  pass  unnoticed. 

But  those  later  words :  "  The  object  of  your 
benevolence  has  found  a  warmer  place  in  my 
father's  heart  than  any  I  ever  held  there." 

Ah  !  Mrs.  Weldon  felt  doubly  assured  as  to  her 
daughter's  delirium,  and  the  mother's  wonted 
sweetness  returned.  No  harshness  revealed  itself 
in  her  voice,  as  she  slipped  down  upon  her  knees 
beside  Evelyn,  whose  features  were  rigid  while  her 
hands  were  firmly  clasped. 


A    TELEGRAM.  125 

With  a  mother's  gentleness  Mrs.  Weldon  placed 
her  arms  about  the  slender  waist  of  her  daughter, 
and  said :  "  Evelyn,  be  calm,  my  dear.  Do  not 
use  such  words  again,  I  beseech  you.  They  pierce 
my  heart  to  its  core.  You  wrong  your  gray-haired 
father  in  his  absence.  You  must  know,  my 
darling,  his  unselfish  love.  You  have  been 
cold  and  restrained  toward  him.  Perhaps  you 
have  spurned  the  first  place  in  his  bosom ;  but  it 
has  been  yours  always.  True,  my  brother's  orphan 
girl  holds  a  dear  place  there ;  but  his  big  heart  has 
room  for  you  both,  though  you,  his  very  own,  have 
always  been  first." 

"If  brought  to  the  test  he  would  send  Hazel 
away,  rather  than  see  me  go  ?  "  persisted  the  girl, 
a  hopeful  gleam  in  her  look. 

"  Oh  my  child,  why  will  you  persevere  in  this 
folly  ?  Every  such  word  is  a  sharp  dagger  in  my 
heart !  "  Hereupon  Mrs.  Weldon  burst  again  into 
convulsive  sobbing,  letting  her  head  fall  hopelessly 
upon  Evelyn's  lap. 

For  some  moments  nothing  was  heard  save  the 
measured  ticking  of  the  clock,  broken  by  half- 
smothered  sobs  from  the  distressed  mother ;  but 
presently  there  came  the  sound  of  light  footsteps 
speeding  through  the  corridor.  The  door  was 
opened,  and  Hazel  crossed  the  threshold,  bearing 
in  her  hand  a  sealed  envelop. 

It  was  now  twilight,  and  the  new-comer  did  not 
at  first  notice  Evelyn,  half-concealed  behind  a 


126  THE   DEATH   TRUST. 

Japanese  screen ;  but  Mrs.  Weldon,  hastily  arising, 
advanced  toward  Hazel,  as  the  latter  cried  excited- 
ly :  "  Aunty,  a  telegram  for  you !  The  boy  rode 
over  with  it  from  Jasper.  He  said  it  required 
immediate  attention." 

Mrs.  Weldon  grasped  the  envelop  wonderingly, 
while  Evelyn  pressed  forward,  possessed  with  a 
lingering  hope  that  here  was  a  message  from 
Deverell. 

Again  and  again  Mrs.  Weldon  turned  the  buff 
cover  about  in  her  hands,  ere  she  could  bring  her- 
self to  open  it.  In  her  younger  days  this  method 
of  correspondence  was  seldom  used,  except  in 
times  of  calamity  ;  and  as  she  had  received  several 
such  despatches  during  her  life,  her  extreme  agita- 
tion was  natural. 

Bijou,  the  large  Saint  Bernard  dog,  had  followed 
Hazel,  and  thrown  himself  on  a  huge  bearskin  rug. 
With  noble  head  erect  he  abruptly  set  up  a  dismal 
howl,  like  the  ill-omened  moan  of  the  north  wind. 
The  sound  was  unlike  any  that  they  had  ever 
heard  from  Bijou  before,  and  for  a  moment  they 
looked  at  each  other,  and  at  the  dog,  with  anxious 
faces. 

"Put  Bijou  out,  Hazel!  Oh,  do  put  him  out! 
What  can  such  actions  mean?  Has  he  some 
instinctive  knowledge  of  coming  trouble?"  said 
Mrs.  Weldon  in  awestruck  tones. 

By  no  persuasion  could  Bijou  be  induced  to  stir 
from  his  position  ;  though  as  if  comprehending  the 


A   TELEGRAM.  127 

annoyance  of  his  demonstration,  he  gave  one  deep 
sigh,  rested  his  head  against  Hazel's  skirts,  and 
riveted  his  knowing  eyes  upon  Mrs.  Weldon,  now 
and  then  beating  his  shaggy  tail  against  the  floor, 
as  was  his  wont  when  impatient. 

"  Do  n't  close  about  me  so,  girls !  —  Heaven  bless 
my  Gerald !  I  trust  he  is  safe ! "  added  Mrs. 
Weldon,  almost  inaudibly.  Then,  as  the  words 
recurred  to  her,  It  requires  immediate  attention, 
she  impulsively  thrust  the  message  into  Evelyn's 
hands,  almost  gasping  as  she  did  so  :  "  Read  it  for 
me,  daughter !  I  do  not  think  I  have  the  courage. 
Hurry !  "  she  added  breathlessly,  as  she  nervously 
thrust  her  hand  inside  her  bosom,  clutching  it 
tightly  over  her  heart. 

As  Evelyn  tore  open  the  envelop  the  mother 
impulsively  walked  to  the  open  window.  The 
next  instant  she  was  arrested  by  the  agonized 
exclamation  :  "  Father,  oh  my  father !  "  There 
was  a  faint  echo,  of  father,  father.  How  heartless 
seemed  this  mimicry !  How  it  turned  a  heart- wail 
into  sport. 

With  unnatural  calm  Mrs.  Weldon  gently 
unclasped  her  daughter's  fingers  from  the  paper, 
and  these  words  danced  before  her  in  flaming 
letters : 

To  Mrs.  Julia  Weldon,  at  Jasper : 

Disastrous  wreck   near  Eufala;   ain   one  of  its  victims, 
wounded  unto  death.     Come  immediately. 

GERALD  WELDON. 


128  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

There  was  no  shriek,  only  a  low,  broken  cry  of 
"  Gerald  !  Oh,  my  best-beloved,  I  am  coming !  " 
Like  a  lily  no  longer  young,  yet  with  the  essence 
of  loveliness  and  purity  still  enshrining  it,  Julia 
Weldon  fell  prostrate,  white  and  still  as  marble. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

ORPHANED. 

So  softly  death  succeeded  life  in  her, 
She  did  but  dream  of  Heaven,  and  she  was  there. 

DRYDEN'S  Leonora. 

TELL  me,  my  soul,  can  this  be  death?    POPE. 

IN"  a  moment  Evelyn  and  Hazel,  the  latter  having 
divined  the  purport  of  the  telegram,,  were 
on  their  knees  beside  the  stricken  wife.  Loud 
were  the  lamentations  of  both  girls,  as  they  chafed 
the  cold  hands,  and  bathed  the  rigid  features,  the 
mask  of  death.  Was  ever  death  itself  more 
ghastly  ? 

The  servants  gently  forced  the  girls  away,  and 
then  bore  the  form  of  their  beloved  mistress  to  the 
sofa,  where  they  unloosed  her  garments.  What 
was  the  terror  which  stole  over  their  dusky  faces, 
when  fifteen  minutes  elapsed,  and  their  efforts  to 
recall  her  to  life  proved  futile  ? 

Evelyn  sat  looking  on,  half-stunned  but  dry- 
eyed,  the  natural  tears  scorched  away  by  the 
unutterable  suspense  of  her  soul;  but  when  she 
saw  Chrissie,  the  housekeeper,  and  the  other 
attendants,  pause  in  their  vigorous  work,  Evelyn 
rose  abruptly,  and  threw  herself  upon  her  knees 
beside  the  couch. 

(129) 


130  THE  DEATH   TRUST. 

"  Mamma,  oh  mamma  darling ! "  she  almost 
shrieked,  "  why  do  n't  you  open  your  eyes  ?  Why 
don't  you  speak  to  me,  your  Evelyn?  Oh  my 
darling,  speak !  This  silence  will  kill  me !  " 

Snatching  one  of  the  slender  hands,  she  covered 
it  with  kisses.  Finding  it  cold  as  ice,  she  held  it 
in  her  bosom,  hoping  to  bring  it  back  to  life  and 
warmth.  A  smile,  with  the  peace  of  Heaven  in  it, 
seemed  to  enliven  the  blue  lips  which  Evelyn 
kissed  so  often,  and  each  moment  seemed  an  hour, 
as  this  perverse  daughter  knelt  by  her  mother's 
side. 

Why  the  terrible  stillness  of  the  room  ?  Why 
was  not  everyone  stirring,  and  helping  to  awaken 
her  loved  one?  Evelyn  looked  searchingly  into 
each  face.  Why  were  the  servants  wearing  such 
tearful  countenances?  Had  they  heard  of  her 
father's  dread  condition?  Where  had  Hazel 
gone  ?  Had  she  abandoned  her  benefactress  in  this 
trying  hour? 

Presently  Evelyn  became  conscious  of  someone 
sobbing  bitterly  at  the  foot  of  the  couch.  Looking 
around  she  saw  Hazel  crouching  there,  her  head 
bent  low  in  grief.  "  Go  to  your  room,  Hazel ! " 
said  Evelyn,  almost  gruffly.  "  Go  to  your  room ! 
Your  agitation  will  excite  mamma  all  the  more, 
when  she  awakes  from  her  swoon." 

"  Oh  Evelyn,  do  n't,  please  do  n't  send  me  away 
frofti  her  !  I  could  n't,  indeed  I  could  n't  bear  to 
go !  "  sobbed  Hazel  piteously. 


ORPHANED.  131 

"Well,  move  farther  off,  then.  You  mustn't 
stay  near  her,  crying  in  such  a  way.  Chrissie," 
turning  to  the  housekeeper,  as  Hazel  moved  slowly 
apart,  "  get  more  hot  mustard- water  !  No,  stay ! 
Lay  your  hand  over  her  heart  for  a  moment! 
Is  n't  there  a  faint  fluttering  ?  Surely  there  is  !  " 

Chrissie  thrust  her  hand  beneath  the  clothes, 
pressing  it  close  against  the  silent  heart,  where 
Evelyn's  had  been  lying. 

"  Do  n't  you  detect  the  slightest  —  just  the 
slightest  fluttering,  Chrissie  ? "  repeated  eagerly 
the  unsuspecting  daughter. 

The  housekeeper  suffered  her  hand  to  remain 
there  long  enough  to  make  "  assurance  doubly 
sure  "  that  no  pulsation,  however  faint,  made  itself 
known.  Slowly  withdrawing  it  she  shook  her 
head  deprecatingly,  while  great  tears  dropped  from 
her  lashes,  wetting  the  satin  cushion  upon  which 
Mrs.  Weldon's  head  rested. 

Noting  this,  Evelyn  began  to  experience  a  terri- 
ble fear.  She  essayed  to  speak,  but  the  question 
which  involuntarily  rose  to  her  lips  froze  there. 
For  one  moment  she  stood  with  stony  face  turned 
toward  the  housekeeper,  but  a  mist  slowly 
gathered  before  her  eyes.  Then  she  began  to 
sway  like  a  wind-tossed  reed ;  and  the  next 
moment  she  would  have  "fallen,  but  for  the  timely 
aid  of  Arline,  who  had  just  returned  from  an 
accustomed  walk,  and  hurried  to  the  sitting-rftom 
to  learn  the  cause  of  the  evident  commotion,  and  see 


132  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

if  anything  was  seriously  amiss.  She  had  hardly 
learned  the  true  state  of  affairs  when  she  caught 
the  fainting  girl  in  her  arms,  and,  with  the  assist- 
ance of  Chrissie,  bore  her  to  a  chamber. 

Here  Evelyn  recovered  consciousness,  after  the 
application  of  a  restorative.  "  Arline,  Chrissie, 
what  has  happened  ?  Tell  me  the  truth  !  Is  she  — 
is  she  —  no,  no!  it  cannot  be!  Tell  me  that  I 
have  been  dreaming !  Tell  me  that  I  have  been 
the  victim  of  a  horrible  illusion,  or  else  I  shall  go 
mad." 

At  first  she  raved  wildly,  but  soon  spoke  more 
quietly.  "  Only  arouse  me  from  this  faintness, 
and  let  me  go  back  to  poor  mamma.  Ah,  bless 
her !  I  left  her  weeping.  I  was  so  cruel ;  but 
she  —  that  girl — goaded  me  to  wickedness.  My 
darling  said  that  my  words  were  like  daggers  !  I 
must  go  to  her  and  beg  forgiveness !  I  must,  I 

MUST  !  " 

She  sprang  toward  the  door,  but  Arline  detained 
her  before  her  hand  touched  the  knob.  "  No,  no, 
mademoiselle!  You  can  not -go  now,  —  not  yet, 
ma  chdre,  —  but  presently,  when  you  are  better, 
and  able  to  see  your  mamma,  I  will  lead  you  to 
her.  Soon  the  doctor  will  come,  and  do  what  he 
can  for  her." 

"  Then  she  is  sick,  but  not  dead  ? "  whispered 
Evelyn  huskily.  "  I  knew  it  was  only  a  wretched 
dream.  I  remember  now,  it  was  that  awful  news 
of  my  father  which  crushed  her  to  the  floor.  — 


ORPHANED.  133 

Arline,"  grasping  the  governess's  arm  appealingly, 
"  only  think !  My  own  dear  father  is  dying,  — 
dying  alone,  away  off  in  Alabama !  What  can  be 
done,  Arline  ?  Mamma  can  not  go  to  him,  nor  can 
I  leave  her." 

Arline  looked  about  her  hopelessly.  The  house- 
keeper had  returned  to  her  mistress's  bedside,  for 
by  this  time  they  had  taken  the  lifeless  form  to 
Mrs.  Weldon's  chamber,  so  there  was  nobody  to 
corroborate  Evelyn's  words. 

*«  Mademoiselle's  mind  is  not  quite  right  as 
yet,"  she  observed  mentally ;  and  then  added 
aloud,  with  gentle  confidence  :  "  It  can  not  be, 
chere  amie!  Monsieur  Weldon  is  in  Memphis, 
and  certainly  well." 

Evelyn  gazed  at  Arline  mutely,  a  momentary 
gladness  dawning  upon  her  thoughts.  "  In  Mem- 
phis, and  well?"  she  repeated  slowly;  but  this 
was  followed  by  a  deprecatory  shake  of  the  head, 
and  a  return  to  hopeless  misery  of  face  and  voice. 

"  You  do  not  know,  you  do  not  understand, 
Arline !  It  was  that  which  caused  my  mother  to 
fall.  My  father  was  on  his  journey  home.  The 
train  was  wrecked  near  Eufala,  and  he  was  left  a 
hapless  victim.  He  is  dying  now!  Only  think, 
how  terrible !  He  who  left  us  less  than  three 
weeks  ago,  the  very  picture  of  health,  is  lying 
alone,  wounded  unto  death.  Perhaps  he  is  dead  ! 
Merciful  Heaven ! " 

Evelyn  was  almost  screaming  now,  and  wringing 


134  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

her  hands  like  one  bereft  of  reason.  "  I  never 
knew  until  now,  when  too  late,  the  depth  of  my 
love  for  him!  Oh  father,  my  best  of  fathers, 
come  back  to  me  ! "  As  she  threw  herself  pros- 
trate across  the  bed,  sobbing  as  though  her  form 
would  be  rent  in  twain,  Arline  turned  away  to 
weep  in  sympathy. 

"  Can  this  be  true  ?  "  she  whispered.  "  Oh  mon 
Dieu,  have  pity,  'have  pity ! "  and  she  raised  her 
eyes  to  Heaven  in  tearful  supplication,  before 
softly  stealing  from  the  room. 

Seven  o'clock!  The  moon's  silvery  light  was 
bathing  the  white  road,  over  which  two  horsemen 
rode  on  their  way  to  the  Grange.  One  was  the 
bearer  of  a  second  message.  The  other  was 
Doctor  Weaver,  the  family  physician.  He  rode 
in  advance ;  but  the  messenger,  spurring  his  horse 
hotly,  gained  rapidly  on  the  doctor.  Two  or  three 
mad  dashes,  and  the  riders  were  neck  and  neck. 

"Doctor  Weaver,"  said  the  breathless  messen- 
ger, "I  made  quite  sure  it  was  nobody  else,  for 
your  saddlebags  were  quite  visible  in  the  moon- 
light. To  the  Grange?"  The  doctor  nodded 
assent. 

"  A  sudden  affliction  this  in  the  family  ?  " 

Doctor  Weaver  looked  puzzled.  "  Ah,  you  have 
heard,  then  ? "  he  rejoined  presently,  naturally 
concluding  that  his  companion  referred  to  Mrs. 
Weldon's  illness.  '"I  trust,  however,  it  is  not 
serious." 


ORPHANED.  135 

"  I  carry  news  of  its  fatality,  sir !  " 

"  What  do  you  mean,  man  ?  I  —  I  do  n't  follow 
you,"  exclaimed  the  other,  with  some  touch  of 
impatience. 

"  You  know  about  the  accident,  the  wreck  ?  — 
Weldon  is  dead." 

"  My  God  ! "  groaned  the  other,  as  he  checked 
his  horse  with  a  sudden  jerk.  "Wreck?  What 
wreck?  Who  did  you  say  was  dead?  " 

«  Gerald  Weldon  !  " 

"  Impossible ! " 

"  Your  pardon,  doctor.  We  have  just  received 
news  direct  from  Eufala,  the  scene  of  the  disaster. 
The  Squire  was  returning  from  Memphis,  and  was 
one  of  the  victims." 

"  If  this  be  true,"  said  the  doctor  strongly 
agitated,  and  touching  his  companion's  arm  as  he 
spoke,  "  then  I  implore  you,  in  the  name  of  Heaven, 
keep  the  news  to  yourself  until  I  have  ascertained 
the  condition  of  my  patient,  Mrs.  Weldon.  She 
has  heart-trouble,  and  such  a  shock  might  prove 
fatal,  especially  if  thrust  upon  her  without  warning." 

"  But  she  was  apprised  of  the  accident  this 
afternoon,  and  also  of  her  husband's  dangerous 
condition." 

"  Then  I  fear  the  worst !  Poor  woman  ! 
However,  you  will  gratify  me  by  waiting  in  the 
yard  until  I  give  you  a  signal." 

By  this  time  they  had  passed  through  the  gate, 
to  the  graveled  sweep.  Doctor  Weaver  took  oft' 


136  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

his  saddlebags,  and  was  hurrying  on,  when,  much 
to  his  annoyance,  the  messenger  called  after  him : 
"I  say,  Doc,  would  you  mind  delivering  the  tele- 
gram yourself?  There  is  no  answer,  and  my  work 
won't  let  me  idle  away  much  time." 

The  doctor  grasped  the  despatch,  thrust  it  into 
his  vest  pocket,  and  strode  rapidly  toward  the 
house,  where  he  found  Chrissie  awaiting  him  on 
the  front  veranda. 

"  She  'm  dead.  You  too  late,  Marsa  Doctah  ! 
My  good  deah  mist'is  am  done  ben  dead  two 
hours  !  "  sobbed  the  faithful  colored  woman. 

Solemnly  they  entered  the  sad  death-chamber 
together. 


CHAPTER   XV. 

ALONE. 

LEAVES  have  their  time  to  fall, 
And  flowers  to  wither  at  the  north  wind's  hreath, 

And  stars  to  set;  hut  all, 
Thou  hast  all  seasons  for  thine  own,  oh  Death ! 

HEMANS. 

THE  dead  leaves  fall.     We  love  them  in  their 
verdure,  as  sweet  diversions  from  our  daily 
cares ;  but  we  watch  them  flutter  in  beauty  to  the 
ground,  and  we  trample  upon  their  ashes,  oh  how 
ruthlessly ! 

We  pluck  a  half-blown  rose,  with  which  to 
adorn  the  bosom.  We  prize  and  love  it,  in  its 
fresh,  pure  beauty,  when  its  petals  breathe  sweet 
incense.  For  a  little  time  we  are  the  flower's  glad 
possessor  and  friend ;  but  when  its  brief  life  begins 
to  wane,  when  its  head  droops  low  on  the  stem's 
exhausted  strength,  and  the  fragrant  breath  is 
gone  forever,  then  we  snatch  the  rose  from  its 
resting-place,  and  fling  it  to  the  winds,  —  thus 
proving  our  ingratitude.  Yet  if  thankless,  we  are 
often  unconsciously  so. 

We   pursue    our   separate    paths    through    life, 

thoughtless  of  our  Heaven-sent  joys,  regardless  of 

the  great  Destroyer's  presence,  until  he  rises 

(137) 


138  THE  DEATH   TRUST. 

to  assert  his  claim  upon  our  own  dear  flesh  and 
blood,  —  until  he  creeps  stealthily  in  and  breaks 
the  golden  links  which  bind  the  household  band. 
Then  we  are  brought  to  realize  all  that  death's 
sphinxlike  presence  involves !  We  are  no  longer 
selfish.  As  we  look  upon  the  impassive  forms  of 
our  loved  ones,  —  his  prey,  —  the  tenderness  in 
our  erring  natures  awakens. 

Goaded  by  the  remembrance  of  our  coldness  to 
the  dear  ones  when  in  life  and  health,  we  fall  upon 
our  knees,  and  lavish  contrite  tears  and  kisses 
upon  marble  hands  and  lips,  squandering  love  upon 
ears  that  are  deaf  to  it  forever !  When  dust  has 
been  consigned  to  dust,  we  wrap  ourselves  in  sable 
robes,  and  hide  us  away  from  the  world  for  a 
season.  We  weep,  we  wrestle  with  our  hearts, 
because  they  remind  us  so  inopportunely  of  the 
debts  we  owed  to  those  who  have  left  us. 

Thus  was  it  with  Evelyn  Weldon.  A  week  ago, 
and  she  was  calmly  happy  in  the  possession  of 
both  father  and  mother.  Today  she  is  desolate,  in 
the  thought  that  not  to  her  will  come  again  the 
touch  of  father's  hand,  the  sound  of  mother's 
voice. 

Evelyn  was  at  first  stunned,  and  then  wild,  with 
grief  over  her  double  bereavement.  The  two  lives 
most  dear  to  her  had  gone  out  almost  simultan- 
eously, leaving  her  an  orphan.  She  crept  softly 
from  the  chamber  where  Arline  left  her,  and 
^ntered  the  sitting-room  unobserved,  but  just  in 


ALONE.  139 

time  to  hear  Doctor  Weaver  pronounce  the  sentence 
which  seemed  her  own  doom:  "She  has  been 
dead  for  quite  two  hours  ! " 

Drop  the  curtain  of  silence  over  the  terrible 
scene  which  ensued.  We  read  of  a  Greek  statue 
which  immortalized  sorrow.  They  called  it  Veiled 
Grief.  It  represented*^  father  about  to  sacrifice 
his  child,  his  face  shrouded  in  a  mantle.  No 
mantle  could  shroud  the  grief  which  reigned 
throughout  the  beautiful  home  of  the  Weldons  on 
this  memorable  summer  night.  Never  did  death 
render  silence  more  sacred. 

Evelyn  and  Hazel  knelt,  or  rather  crouched,  all 
night  beside  the  bed  whereon  rested  what  was 
yesterday  the  hopeful  mistress  of  the  Grange. 
The  girls  did  not  exchange  a  single  word.  The 
first  rays  which  peeped  through  the  shutters  — 
mocking  the  feeble  light  of  the  candles,  burning 
low  in  their  sconces  —  fell  athwart  the  snowy  sheet, 
above  which  both  heads  were  bowed,  mute  as  the 
dead. 

Evelyn's  grief  was  no  longer  audible.  Her 
lamentations  had  spent  themselves  at  midnight, 
and  only  an  occasional  quiver  betokened  that  she 
was  still  alive  to  her  sorrow.  At  intervals  Hazel 
wailed  aloud  for  the  dead  to  return,  and  her  sobs 
were  frequent. 

The  cuckoo  lifted  himself  from  the  roof  of  his 
ormolu  home,  and  proclaimed  in  shrill  accents, 
which  seemed  to  deride  the  holy  quiet,  that  it  was4 


140  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

six  o'clock.  As  his  last  note  was  sounded,  Hazel 
arose  from  her  kneeling  posture,  and  went  to  the 
opposite  side  of  the  bed.  All  night  her  stricken 
heart  had  been  crying,  but  so  silently  that  only 
angels  might  hear  :  "  Evelyn,  let  me  love  you  ! 
Let  me  love  you,  or  I  too  nmst  die !  " 

Now  Hazel  stood  for  a  moment  beside  her 
cousin's  bent  form,  ere  she  could  bring  her  lips  to 
frame  the  words.  Suddenly  Evelyn  felt  an  arm 
steal  softly  about  hei  neck.  She  looked  up 
listlessly,  but  let  her  head  fall  heavily  upon  her 
arm  again,  when  she  saw  who  stood  beside  her. 

Nevertheless  she  could  not  deafen  her  ear  to  the 
mournful  words :  "  They  are  both  gone  from  me, 
Evelyn,  and  I  have  none  left  but  you !  Oh  Evelyn, 
Cousin  Evelyn,  let  me  love  you  now !  "  Her  arm 
tightened  its  clasp  about  the  neck  of  her  foster- 
sister,  while  tears  fell  upon  the  bands  of  dark  hair. 

Evelyn  disengaged  the  clinging  arm  and  arose 
hastily.  "Hazel,  this  is  no  fit  place  for  a  scene,"' 
she  said  coolly.  "  We  will  speak  of  ourselves 
when  all  this  trouble  is  over.  I  am  desolate,  —  oh 
God,  how  desolate !  "  Thereupon  she  covered  her 
face  with  both  hands  and  groaned  miserably ;  but 
after  a  moment  she  added :  "  I  can  think  of 
nothing  now  but  my  cruel  bereavement.  You  have 
Arline !  Go  to  her ! " 

"  But,"   faltered  the  other,  "  Arline,  though  so 
kind  and  good,  can  not  comfort  me  now,  Evelyn ; 
•but  you  are  of  my  own  flesh  and  bl ' 


ALONE.  141 

She  was  abruptly  checked.  The  secret  rose 
again  treacherously  to  Evelyn's  lips,  even  in  this 
awful  hour.  "  You  are  not,"  she  began,  as  a  sud- 
den fire  leaped  into  her  eyes ;  but  her  tongue  clave 
to  the  roof  of  her  mouth,  and  she  found  herself 
powerless  to  proceed  with  the  unholy  words. 
There  came  a  face  before  her,  —  a  face  with  gray 
eyes  full  of  wounded  reproach,  —  her  mother's 
eyes! 

With  an  effort  Evelyn  averted  her  eyes  from 
the  child's  pathetic  face,  and  turned  them  slowly 
toward  the  dead  ;  and  now  that  wicked  light  died 
out  of  them,  and  the  hard  lines  disappeared  from 
her  mouth.  "  Go !  Leave  me  alone  with  my  dead 
darling ! "  she  cried,  with  a  wild  gesture,  but 
without  turning  again  toward  Hazel.  "  They  will 
bring  my  father  home  —  and  —  and  —  place  him 
beside  her.  I  must  be  left  alone  with  them ! 
They  are  my  dead,  mine  only !  Leave  me  to  my 
bitterness  !  Has  not  every  heart  its  own  ?  " 

Slowly  and  silently  Hazel  quitted  the  room. 
"  Yes,  they  are  her  dead,  not  mine,"  she  whispered 
to  herself.  J*  I  have  no  claim  upon  them  ;  but  oh, 
how  they  loved  me  !  They  both  loved  me,  as  I 
loved  them.  Oh  Evelyn,  if  you  knew  how  my 
heart  is  breaking,  you  could  not  send  me  away! 
I  am  so  utterly  alone  !  " 

Hazel  stumbled  through  the  wide  halls  and  out 
of  doors,  her  tears  falling  like  rain.  She  took  no 
heed  of  the  flowers,  as  fragrant  and  bright-hued 


142  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

today  as  yesterday.  The  birds  skimmed  the  air  in 
sweet  freedom,  flinging  their  joyous  notes  at  each 
other  as  they  did  yestermorn  ;  yet  Hazel  took 
small  note  of  them,  as  with  dilatory  step  she  wan- 
dered, —  she  knew  not,  cared  not,  whither. 

Mechanically  she  followed  the  garden  path, 
reached  the  wicket,  lifted  the  latch,  and  continued 
on  through  the  orange  grove,  toward  the  lake. 
Suddenly,  as  she  reached  the  skirt  of  willows,  she 
noticed  a  sound  of  labored  breathing  close  behind 
her,  and  saw  Bijou  in  full  chase.  With  a  glad  cry 
she  waited  for  him,  and  then  knelt  beside  him, 
clasping  her  arms  about  his  neck. 

"  Bijou,  dear  old  friend !  I  still  have  you !  "  As 
she  felt  his  sympathetic  tongue  lapping  her  face, 
her  grief  became  so  vehement  that  the  dog  also 
moaned  piteously  ;  but  presently  she  arose,  linked 
her  hand  within  his  collar,  and  together  they  passed 
through  the  willows  down  to  the  edge  of  the 
water,  where  her  boat  was  tied. 

Two  hours  later  Aiiine,  worried  by  the  long 
absence  of  her  charge,  went  down  to  the  lake, 
which  she  knew  was  Hazel's  favorite  resort ;  and 
there  she  found  her,  fast  asleep  in  the  hollow  of 
the  boat,  her  head  pillowed  upon  Bijou's  neck. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

WEDDED    IN    DEATH. 

* 

MY  love,  my  blessing  while  on  earth  ; 
Then  over  the  river  we  two  shall  go, 
And  stand  in  the  light  of  God's  great  smile ; 
In  life,  in  death,  arid  in  after-death, 
My  love,  my  blessing,  all  the  while. 

THE  day  appointed  for  the  funeral  was  ushered 
in  clear  and  cool,  with  only  the  low  rustle  of 
zephyrs  to  disturb  the  quiet  which  brooded  over 
the  Weldon  home.  Scarlet  geraniums  flamed 
beneath  the  windows  of  the  death-sanctuary ;  but 
just  above  this  bold  flower  the  pale  jessamine 
trailed,  its  meek  eyes  open  toward  heaven,  yet  with 
here  and  there  a  filmy  veil,  as  if  cast  by  some  con- 
dolent  spirit-hand. 

There  was  no  visible  sign  of  life  about  the 
Grange.  The  shutters  were  closed.  Even  the 
shades  in  the  servants'  quarters  were  closely  drawn . 
Long  streamers  of  crape  on  the  door-knobs 
prophesied  the  dreary  months  which  must  elapse 
ere  happiness  would  again  pervade  that  stately 
home. 

Was  ever  such  sorrow  known  before  ?  In  the 
same  lofty  and  magnificently  appointed  parlors 
where,  thirty  years  before,  Julia  Weldon  had  stood 
(143) 


144  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

decked  in  bridal  white,  a  happy  and  trustful  girl- 
wife,  she  now  rested  in  her  funeral  casket,  beside 
the  form  of  her  husband.  Wedded  in  death  !  As 
loyal  to  each  other  as  when  they  knelt  at  God's 
altar,  and  took  the  solemn  vows  of  wedlock,  they 
now  stood  before  their  King  on  his  great  white 
throne,  blessed  forever,  through  almighty  love,  with 
happiness  immortal.  Such  is  fidelity's  reward ! 

The  two  caskets  were  wreathed  in  jessamine,  for 
that  delicate  flower  falls  to  the  ground  in  the  full 
beauty  of  life,  and  is  therefore  the  fittest  emblem 
of  sudden  death. 

Mrs.  Seymour,  accompanied  by  her  only  daughter, 
Myrtle,  —  a  beautiful  girl  of  about  Hazel's  age,  — 
arrived  from  New  Orleans  the  preceding  evening ; 
while  other  relatives,  including  a  younger  brother 
of  Mr.  Weldon,  with  his  family,  came  from  Jack- 
sonville, Tallahassee,  and  other  parts  of  Florida. 

Together  with  many  other  sympathetic  friends, 
the  visitors  were  congregated  in  the  parlors  to  listen 
to  the  solemn  rites  of  burial.  Mrs.  Seymour  stood 
at  the  head  of  the  casket  which  held  the  form  of 
her  dear  twin-sister,  and  gazed  upon  that  beautiful 
countenance,  bright  with  the  halo  of  Heaven. 

By  her  side  stood  Myrtle,  oiie  arm  consolingly 
encircling  her  mother's  waist.  Her  dark  eyes  were 
fixed  pityingly,  not  upon  either  dead  face,  but  upon 
Hazel,  who  stood  with  her  slender  hands  clasped, 
while  her  white  face  gleamed  through  the  sable 
veil  which  fell  over  it.  Myrtle's  heart  went  out  in 


WEDDED  IN  DEATH.  145 

sympathy  toward  this  frail  girl !  How  she  longed 
to  entwine  comforting  arms  about  her  neck,  and 
whisper  the  deep  love  of  her  heart ! 

Myrtle  had  been  told  that  Hazel  regarded  her 
aunt  and  uncle  with  deep  and  filial  love,  and  that 
this  affection  was  returned  tenfold  by  the  foster- 
parents  ;  and  Myrtle  wondered  who  would  now 
take  their  place  toward  this  lone  child.  Would 
Evelyn  love  and  care  for  her?  Myrtle's  eyes 
turned  from  Hazel's  face  to  Evelyn's,  who  also 
stood  on  the  opposite  side,  leaning  heavily  upon 
the  arm  of  her  uncle. 

The  New  Orleans  girl  had  noticed  that  no 
open  sympathy  had  been  exchanged  between  the 
cousins,  though  heretofore  she  had  given  the  mat- 
ter no  reflection.  She  marvelled  now  why  Hazel 
was  left  standing  alone ;  why  Evelyn  did  not 
encircle  her  with  a  comforting  arm,  as  she  herself 
yearned  to  do ;  why  they  did  not  weep  together, 
like  sisters. 

Suddenly  Myrtle  burst  into  passionate  weeping. 
Though  she  had  moaned  continuously,  her  grief 
had  heretofore  been  subdued ;  but  now  her  lamen- 
tations, breaking  thus  abruptly  upon  the  ears  of 
the  other  mourners,  caused  them  all  to  look  on  in 
surprise.  Mrs.  Seymour  drew  her  darling  closer 
to  her  side,  and  pressed  her  there  tenderly. 

"  Do  n't,  my  love  !  Do  n't  weep  like  that ! 
Aunty  is  happy.  See  how  peacefully  she  is  rest- 
ing beside  dear  uncle.  —  Oh  —  Julia,  Julia !  It 


146  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

seems  as  if   part  of   my  own   life   had  gone   out 
with  yours ! " 

"But  mamma,"  whispered  Myrtle,  "it  —  it  — 
is  n't  alone  for  aunty  and  uncle  that  I  cry ;  it  is 
for  her  —  my  Cousin  Hazel.  She  looks  so  lonely 
over  there,  and  I  love  her  so !  Oh  mamma,  I  love 
her  more  than  I  can  tell.  There  is  a  feeling  here  " 
—  pressing  one  hand  close  to  her  heart  —  "I  can 
not  describe,  but  it  is  full  of  longing  for  her !  " 

Incoherent  as  were  these  words,  they  were  in- 
telligible to  Mrs.  Seymour,  and  each  syllable  went 
direct  to  her  heart.  She  directed  her  troubled 
eyes  toward  Hazel,  and  a  moan  escaped  her.  Then 
she  leaned  heavily  upon  the  arm  of  her  husband, 
and  Mr.  Seymour  bent  his  head  to  catch  the  words 
she  whispered  in  a  choked  voice  :  "  Papa,  take 
Myrtle  around  to  Hazel.  She  stands  there  all 
alone,  and  our  darling  wishes  to  go  to  her." 

Mr.  Seymour  gravely  did  his  wife's  bidding,  to 
Myrtle's  almost  irrepressible  satisfaction.  As  he 
resumed  his  place  beside  his  wife,  and  gently 
placed  her  hand  within  his  own,  he  was  startled 
at  its  coldness,  and  looked  down  anxiously  into  her 
face,  believing  she  might  be  ill.  He  would  have 
asked  her,  but  the  expression  in  her  face  held  him 
spellbound.  Her  eyes  were  fastened  upon  the  two 
young  girls,  and  instinctively  his  own  followed 
them.  Strong  though  he  was,  he  felt  his  breath 
quicken,  and  he  drew  his  wife  closer  to  his  side, 
keenly  alive  to  the  feelings  that  nearly  overcame 
her. 


WEDDED  IN  DEATH.  147 

The  two  young  girls  were  of  the  same  height. 
Both  were  slight  and  supple,  both  were  fair.  One 
had  golden-brown  hair,  and  eyes  like  sapphires; 
the  other  had  tresses  bright  as  the  purest  topaz, 
and  her  brown  eyes  were  large  and  liquid,  with  a 
soft  and  tender  expression,  such  as  we  see  in  the 
eyes  of  a  fallow  deer.  They  stood  with  entwined 
arms.  Their  heads  were  bent  together,  and  to- 
gether their  tears  fell.  There  was  a  likeness 
between  them,  —  nay,  it  was  almost  startling. 

During  these  occurrences  the  service  had  been 
delayed,  in  expectation  of  the  arrival  of  a  few 
distant  relatives ;  but  now  the  folding  doors  were 
swung  wide  open,  and  the  minister  moved  toward 
the  casket. 

"  I  am  the  resurrection  and  the  life,  saith  the 
Lord." 

In  a  beautiful  spot  in  Cypress  Dell  we  leave 
Evelyn's  parents,  at  rest  in  the  family  cemetery. 
Over  them  the  plumed  trees  whisper  their  low 
requiems,  while  jessamines  lovingly  entwine  the 
monument,  which  bears  the  simple  inscription  : 

SACRED    TO    THE    MEMORY 
OF 

GERALD   AND   JULIA   WELDON 


WEDDED  IN  DEATH. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

SIXTEEN    YEARS    AGO, 
ALONE,  yet  I  am  not  alone.    JESUS. 

ENTL'UM  t'  see  Missy  Eb'lyn  !  " 

Evelyn  and  Mrs.  Seymour  were  closeted 
in  the  younger  lady's  boudoir,  and  engaged  in 
earnest  conversation  when  this  announcement  was 
made  by  a  servant. 

Weeks  had  passed  since  the  funeral,  but  Mrs. 
Seymour  still  remained  with  her  bereaved  niece. 

Evelyn  took  the  card  nervously  from  the  silver 
tray,  while  a  sudden  hopeful  color  leaped  into  her 
worn  face ;  but  this  died  out,  leaving  it  paler  than 
before,  as  she  read  the  name,  J.  O^es^y,  .Efcy., 
with  these  words  hastily  pencilled  below  :  "  Solici- 
tor to  the  late  Gerald  Weldon." 

Evelyn  arose  languidly.  "  It  is  papa's  lawyer," 
she  explained  to  her  aunt.  "  I  will  go  down  and 
learn  his  errand.  I  hope  he  does  not  come  to 
discuss  my  legal  affairs.  I  do  n't  feel  equal  to  the 
ordeal.  There  are  times,"  she  added,  moving  list- 
lessly toward  the  mirror  to  adjust  a  black  lace 
mantle  about  her  shoulders,  "  when  I  almost  wish  I 
had  been  left  penniless.  I  can  hardly  hope  for  a 
moment's  peace  in  future,  with  these  properties 
(148) 


SIXTEEN  TEAKS  AGO.  149 

all  staring  me  in  the  face.  They  are  added 
burdens ! " 

"  Ah,  dear  child,  you  have  yet  to  learn  the  true 
value  of  riches,"  returned  her  aunt  quietly.  "  The 
day  will  come  when  you  will  bear  proudly  your 
title  of  the  wealthiest  woman  in  the  State." 

"  "Wealth,  wealth  !  A  future  gilded  with  such  a 
reputation,  yet  devoid  of  happiness !  "  sighed  the 
young  lady.  "  Aunt,"  she  added,  turning  wearily 
from  the  mirror,  "  those  words  of  Shakespeare  so 
often  recur  to  me  of  late : 

How  weary,  stale,  flat,  and  unprofitable, 
Seem  to  me  all  the  uses  of  this  world !  " 

"  Poor  dear  !  "  sighed  Mrs  Seymour,  as  the  doo*r 
closed  behind  her  niece.  "  She  is  right !  All  the 
gold  and  jewels  in  the  land  can  not  gild  a  bitter 
sorrow,  or  render  it  an  ounce  lighter ;  but  I  fear 
there  is  some  deeper  grief  than  loss  of  her 
parents  !  How  she  started  at  the  sight  of  that 
card  !  Can  Aubrey  Deverell  have  anything  to  do 
with  her  misery  ?  Did  his  visit  bring  bitterness  ? 
How  significant  were  her  words  about  wealth  and 
happiness  !  " 

The  elder  lady  was  still  meditating  thus  when 
the  younger  returned.  "It  is  as  I  anticipated, 
aunty !  Mr.  Oglesby  called  about  papa's  will !  " 

"Well?" 

"  He  has  one  in  his  possession,  drawn  up  six  or 
eight  years  ago.  He  says,  however,  that  another 
will  was  drawn  up,  not  long  before  poor  papa's 


150  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

departure  for  Memphis.  He  thinks  this  last  one 
must  be  in  papa's  secretary,  together  with  other 
private  papers.  If  you  will  come  with  me,  we  will 
look  through  the  desk  together." 

Mrs.  Seymour  arose  at  once,  and  they  went 
downstairs.  After  a  patient  search  Evelyn  found 
the  document  in  question ;  and  Mrs.  Seymour's 
countenance  underwent  an  expression  of  unspeak- 
able pleasure,  as  she  read  the  clearly  written  lines 
with  her  niece,  and  saw  that  the  vast  rice-plantation , 
called  Fairacre,  was  bequeathed  to  Hazel  Verne, 
his  own  and  his  wife's  adopted  child. 

With  this  exception  the  whole  of  Gerald 
Weldon's  property  was  willed  to  his  beloved  wife, 
with  a  large  yearly  income  reserved  for  their 
"  only  lawful  issue,  Evelyn  Stanhope  Weldon." 
After  Mrs.  Weldon's  death,  the  whole  estate  was 
to  descend  to  Evelyn,  Fairacre  only  excepted.  Of 
course  when  Mr.  Weldon  made  this  will  he  did  not 
dream  that  his  wife  would  precede  himself  by  a 
few  hours  into  the  undiscovered  country  of 
shadows,  or  that  his  own  earthly  career  would 
meet  so  untimely  an  end. 

Evelyn  at  length  replaced  this  precious  paper  in 
its  pigeonhole.  "You  see,  aunt,"  said  she,  and 
with  a  bitter  curl  of  the  lip,  "  my  father  has  left 
this  charity  child  independently  rich !  Some  waifs 
are  truly  fortunate !  " 

Her  sarcasm  seldom  missed  its  mark,  and  Mrs. 
Seymour  was  plainly  wounded.  She  could  not 


SIXTEEN  YEARS  AGO.  151 

find  it  in  her  heart  to  resent  Evelyn's  words ;  but 
she  replied  proudly,  though  in  her  usual  gentle 
tones :  "  Hazel  is  a  most  worthy  object  for  his 
generosity.  That  he  has  shown  deep  affection  for 
her  does  not  surprise  me." 

Evelyn  vouchsafed  no  reply,  but  looked  with  a 
marble  face  out  of  the  window,  into  the  autumn 
sunlight. 

Stung  to  the  quick  by  what  she  believed  extreme 
selfishness  in  her  niece,  Mrs.  Seymour  adopted  a 
line  of  quiet  reasoning. 

"  My  dear  niece,"  motioning  toward  the  beautiful 
view  commanded  by  the  library  window,  "  this 
estate  alone  will  net  you  a  revenue  adequate  to 
the  maintenance  of  a  handsome  establishment  in 
town,  —  to  say  nothing  of  your  other  property, 
your  grazing-land,  stock,  houses,  bonds.  Surely 
you  can  not  grudge  my  dead  brother's  orphan  the 
comparatively  small  share  allotted  her !  Had  your 
father  omitted  this  provision,  how  freely  would  I 
have  taken  Hazel  to  my  heart  and  home  ;  and  in 
the  end  I  would  have  treated  her  as  my  own 
daughter.  To  have  her  with  Myrtle  always, 
would  make  it  seem  as  if  God  had  given  me  back 

my "  She  could  say  no  more,  for  choking 

tears  forbade. 

Something  in  this  grief  touched  a  chord  of 
sympathy  in  the  unforgiving  Evelyn.  She  moved 
restlessly  in  her  chair,  and  presently  ventured  to 
lay  her  hand  upon  her  aunt's  arm. 


152  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

"Aunt  Lydia,"  with  a  touch  of  real  tenderness 
in  her  voice,  "  try  and  forget  the  past !  Have  we 
not  enough  present  grief,  without  calling  back  that 
of  so  many  years  ago  ?  " 

"  Oh  girl,  girl !  "  cried  Mrs.  Seymour  passion- 
ately, leaving  her  seat  and  pacing  the  room,  "  can  I 
forget  the  sorrow  which  haunts  me  every  waking 
hour,  making  me  often  a  stranger  to  sleep,  and 
besetting  me  with  unreasonable  anticipations  every 
day  ?  With  hoping,  I  have  grown  old  and  gray,  — 
hoping,  hoping,  hoping  —  for  sixteen  weary  years  ! 
Not  one  day  but  a  mother's  supplication  has  gone 
up  to  Heaven,  that  the  lost  might  be  found ;  but 
no  answer  has  been  granted !  At  last,  with 
despair  closing  about  me,  and  with  my  burden  of 
grief  made  heavier  by  the  loss  of  my  only  sister,  I 
find  my  soul  crying  out  for  a  release  from  its 
torture,  even  by  death." 

She  paused  nervously  and  then  faltered  :  "  Eve- 
lyn, my  dear,  I  am  faint ! "  and  groped  her  way 
to  the  nearest  chair. 

In  a  moment  Evelyn  had  brought  a  glass  of 
wine,  which  she  held  to  the  bloodless  lips. 

Presently  her  aunt  spoke  again :  "  I  should 
repress  my  feelings.  To  give  way  to  them,  as  I 
did  just  now,  is  sure  to  make  me  ill;  but  oil 
Evelyn,  pity -me!  Sympathize  with  me  as  your 
mother  did,  and  give  your  Cousin  Hazel  some  of 
the  affection  you  would  have  bestowed  upon  — 
.upon  Myrtle's  little  sister.  The  feeling  has  often 


SIXTEEN  YEARS  AGO.  153 

come  to  me  of  late,  that  this  poor  orphan  might 
have  been  given  to  our  branch  of  the  family  to  fill 
the  vacancy  left  by  my  lost  darling.  Julia  wrote 
me  once  that  this  thought  came  to  her  also.  Won't 
you  try  and  find  room  for  Hazel  in  your  heart, 
Evelyn  ?  Oh  try  to  love  her,  for  the  sake  of  her 
dead  parents  !  " 

She  paused,  awaiting  some  reply;  but  as  none 
came,  she  went  on  eagerly :  "  I  have  feared  that 
you  and  Hazel  are  not  quite  happy  together ! 
Last  winter,  while  you  were  with  me  in  New 
Orleans,  I  hoped,  day  after  day,  to  hear  you  speak 
of  her ;  but  the  name  scarcely  passed  your  lips, 
and  so  I  was  led  to  believe  that  you  were  not  in 
friendly  relations  with  her.  I  see  that  mine  was  a 
correct  reading  of  your  heart ;  but  now  that  you 
are  brought  to  realize  her  position  in  the  world,  as 
doubly  orphaned,  you  will  surely  be  more  lenient. 
Not  only  by  ties  of  blood  are  you  near  of  kin,  but 
you  are  sisters  in  grief.  Promise  me,  Evelyn !  — 
What  is  it,  dear  ?  Are  you  ill  ?  " 

She  asked  this  question,  as  her  niece  turned  her 
ghastly  face  from  the  window,  and  clutched  at  her 
throat,  as  if  suffocated. 

"It  is  nothing,  —  nothing  but  the  closeness  of 
the  room !  "  Evelyn  faltered  huskily ;  but  after  a 
moment  she  went  on  more  calmly :  "  Aunt  Lydia, 
I  wish  you  would  talk  no  more  of  Hazel.  I  can 
never  bring  myself  to  regard  that  girl  with  any- 
thing like  affection.  I  have  my  reasons  for  this, 


154  THE   DEATH  TRUST. 

reasons  which  I  can  not  impart  even  to  you,  whom 
I  love  dearly,  and  would  confide  in  above  all 
others." 

The  determination  of  Evelyn's  utterance  baffled 
Mrs.  Seymour.  She  tried  to  fathom  the  meaning 
of  such  bitter  words;  but  the  more  she  thought 
about  Evelyn's  dislike  of  the  young  girl,  —  who,  in 
Mrs.  Seymour's  eyes,  seemed  the  embodiment  of 
the  pure  and  lovable,  —  the  more  she  wondered 
what  could  be  its  unrevealed  cause." 

Suddenly  a  happy  thought  occurred  to  her,  and 
she  voiced  it  eagerly:  "Then,  dear,  if  you  think 
you  can  not  soften  your  heart  toward  my  brother 
Henry's  child,  I  shall  deem  it  a  privilege,  a  sweet 
privilege,  to  take  her  home  with  us.  She  and 
Myrtle  can  find  happiness  in  one  another's  com- 
panionship. Myrtle  pleads  in  every  letter  for  me 
to  bring  her  little  cousin  with  me ;  but  never  until 
now  have  I  ventured  to  speak  to  you  on  the  sub- 
ject, for  I  feared  you  would  regard  the  proposal  as 
selfish.  I  did  not  for  a  moment  think  you  would 
care  to  part  with  Hazel  indefinitely.  She  and 
Myrtle  have  made  about  equal  progress  in  their 
studies,  and  — 

"  Impossible  !  I  will  not  suffer  my  mother's 
orphan  to  quit  Weldon  Grange  under  any  circum- 
stances," said  Evelyn  abruptly,  obstinacy  revealing 
itself  both  in  face  and  voice.  "It  would  be  an 
injustice  to  the  dead.  In  another  year,  perhaps," 
she  went  ou  with  forced  calmness,  —  for  the  very 


SIXTEEN    YEARS  AGO.  155 

thought  of  Hazel  Verne's  going  to  New  Orleans 
roused  the  devil  within  her,  —  "  after  she  has  com- 
pleted her  studies,  —  Hazel  may  make  Myrtle  a 
visit ;  but  she  will  certainly  continue  to  make  this 
her  home,  until  she  attains  her  majority.  After 
that  she  will  be  mistress  of  her  own  actions,  and 
can  choose  for  herself." 

"Meanwhile,  what  will  life  be  to  her  here  at 
Weldon  Grange,  without  the  presence  of  love  to 
brighten  it?"  asked  the  other,  the  ready  tears 
again  filling  her  eyes.  "  Promise  me  that  you  will 
not  try  to  make  Hazel  unhappy!  You  will  at 
least  promise  me  this,  Evelyn ! " 

"  I  shall  see  but  little  of  Hazel  during  the  next 
year,"  returned  her  niece,  still  unmoved.  "  She  will 
be  continuously  under  the  charge  of  her  governess ; 
but  if  my  promise  will  give  you  any  satisfaction, 
you  have  it !  I  will  not  seek  to  make  the  girl 
more  miserable  than  she  is." 

There  was  that  in  Evelyn's  tone  which  restrained 
the  words  of  gratitude  on  Mrs.  Seymour's  lips. 
She  sadly  left  the  room,  after  touching  her  niece's 
brow  with  a  formal  kiss. 

"What,  take  her  to  New  Orleans,  where  she 
would  be  in  daily  contact  with  him?  —  Never! 
Sooner  would  I  place  her  behind  the  walls  of  a 
nunnery !  "  This  Evelyn  muttered  to  herself  when 
alone. 

For  more  than  an  hour  she  sat  buried  in  thought. 
Almost  unnoticed  the  afternoon  waned,  and  every 


156  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

object  in  the  library  took  upon  itself  a  shadowy 
form. 

At  length  the  girl  lifted  her  head  from  the 
cushion  on  which  it  rested,  and  looked  about  her. 
Why  was  it  that  two  girlish  faces  seemed  to  stare 
from  every  pedestal,  every  frame,  from  every  nook 
and  corner  of  the  room,  —  Hazel's  and  Myrtle's? 
Here  she  would  encounter  sapphire  eyes,  and  there 
a  pair  of  brown  ones.  Two  bisque  images  on  the 
India  cabinet  suddenly  assumed  the  features  of 
these  two  girls.  How  like,  yet  how  unlike  each 
other ! 

It  can  not  be !  The  thought  is  absurd,  when 
Memphis  and  New  Orleans  are  so  far  apart !  Yet, 
oh  God,  the  thought  haunts  me  like  a  demon ! " 
Shudderingly  Evelyn  arose,  and  then  hastily  fled 
upstairs. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

TROUBLED    FACES. 

BUT  thou  art  here.    Thou  filPst 
The  solitude.    Thou  art  in  the  soft  winds 
That  run  along  the  summit  of  these  trees 
In  music.    Thou  art  in  the  cooler  breath 
That,  from  the  inmost  darkness  of  the  place, 
Comes,  scarcely  felt.    BRYANT. 

A  LTHOUGH  the  day  was  wellnigh  spent,  Eve- 
f\  lyn  had  yet  to  make  her  accustomed  visit  to 
Cypress  Dell.  She  preferred  to  make  these  visits 
to  the  dead  unattended,  though  the  distance  was 
more  than  a  mile,  and  the  unfrequented  road  ran 
through  a  dense  wood.  Indeed  she  courted  rather 
than  feared  this  solitude. 

This  evening  her  step  was  slow  and  careless. 
The  birds  and  squirrels,  which  hastened  into 
ambush  at  her  approach,  afforded  all  the  society 
she  desired.  In  this  aromatic  forest  she  felt  that 
sense  of  freedom  which  seldom  came  to  her  at 
the  Grange,  where  the  rooms,  though  bright  and 
lofty,  seemed  like  prison  cells,  and  the  atmosphere, 
though  pure,  and  fragrant  with  the  breath  of 
flowers,  was  often  stifling  and  unbearable. 

There  was  always  a  weight  upon  her  mind.  It 
made  her  restless,  and  a  stranger  to  the  peaceful 
(157) 


158  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

comfort  which  pervaded  her  home,  and  which  she 
so  much  enjoyed  in  the  old  days. 

Her  grief  over  her  double  bereavement  was 
deep  and  heartfelt ;  but  even  such  affliction  must 
in  time  reach  a  reconciliation  with  the  inevitable. 
Outward  lamentations  must  sooner  or  later  cease, 
giving  place  to  calm  endurance. 

This  change  had  come  to  Evelyn.  She  began 
to  look  her  position  in  the  face,  and  to  accept 
it  as  right,  as  well  as  unavoidable.  She  seldom 
reflected  upon  her  great  possessions,  however. 
What  was  wealth?  Could  it  replace  what  she 
had  loved  and  lost  irrevocably?  Could  it  purchase 
back  her  parents  ?  Could  it  redeem  her  alienated 
lover? 

Awhile  ago  Evelyn  was  ambitious  and  gay,  with 
joy  in  each  today,  and  a  longing  for  the  "golden 
dawn-glow"  of  each  tomorrow.  Now  she  was  a 
miserable  and  disappointed  woman,  looking  hope- 
lessly forward  to  the  grim  future,  and  wondering 
how  many  years  of  desolation  she  must  needs 
endure. 

Her  thoughts  this  evening,  as  she  walked  toward 
Cypress  Dell,  were  centred  upon  one  whom  she 
regarded  as  lost  to  her,  —  Aubrey  Deverell.  She 
told  herself  that  if  he  should  return  to  her  and 
say:  "Evelyn,  I  am  beggared!  I  am  worse,— 
lost  to  every  sense  of  honor !  Will  you  accept  me 
in  my  degradation  ?  Will  you  relinquish  Weldon 
Grange,  and  your  vast  possessions,  for  a  wretch  so 


TROUBLED  FACES.  159 

unworthy  ?  "  she  would  cry  out,  from  the  depths 
of  her  idolatrous  heart.  "  Yes,  Aubrey,  my  love ! 
Every  farthing  will  I  renounce  for  you !  Without 
you,  the  world  is  but  an  empty  void.  Beside  you, 
even  in  beggary,  I  should  be  tenfold  happy ! " 

Such  was  Evelyn  Weldon's  devotion.  Uncon- 
sciously she  spoke  her  thought  aloud,  and  the 
passionate  words  echoed  down  the  vine-tangled 
ravine  below  :  Happy,  tenfold !  Terrified  she 
stood  still,  for  the  sentence  sounded  like  fiendish 
mockery. 

"  Happy !  "  she  cried  again,  with  hands  upraised 
in  defiance.  Then,  as  the  tears  coursed  down  her 
cheeks  :  "  Merciful  Heaven  !  Is  there  no  light  for 
me  ?  Am  I  always  to  be  thus  miserable  ?  " 

Miserable!  murmured  the  pines.  Miserable! 
came  the  weird  and  dismal  echo  from  the  hollow. 

Evelyn  looked  timidly  about  her.  "  Surely  the 
evil  spirit  is  in  pursuit  of  me!  Who  else  could 
mock  me  thus  cruelly?" 

With  a  suppressed  cry  she  involuntarily  quick- 
ened her  steps,  experiencing  for  the  first  time  an 
unspeakable  dread  of  the  dark  woods.  Soon  the 
white  monuments  in  the  cemetery  came  into  view. 
With  a  feeling  of  relief  she  hurried  forward,  and 
commenced  to  twine  fresh  jessamine  about  the 
stone  which  marked  the  resting-place  of  her 
parents.  She  had  strewn  the  mound  with  fresh 
flowers,  and  stooped  to  rearrange  a  vase  toppling 
under  a  weight  of  white  roses,  when  she  heard  a 
faint  rustle  behind  her. 


160  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

She  glanced  around,  the  forest  terror  reviving, 
and  making  her  pulse  beat  fiercely.  Nothing  was 
visible,  however ;  so  she  attributed  the  noise  to 
some  bird  or  squirrel,  and  renewed  her  pious 
attention  to  the  graves. 

When  all  was  in  order  she  sat  down  on  a  rustic 
bench,  and  surrendered  herself  to  memories  of  the 
departed,  remembering  all  their  good  and  generous 
traits  only,  and  recalling  the  selfish  thoughts  she 
had  cherished  and  the  cruel  words  she  too  oft  had 
spoken. 

Then  her  mind  wandered,  from  those  with  whom 
she  had  forever  closed  all  earthly  accounts,  to  the 
living,  whose  image  was  ever  uppermost.  She 
recalled  Aubrey  as  he  had  once  been,  and  as  he 
was  and  must  be,  —  forever  be,  —  estranged  from 
herself. 

With  this  came  creeping  back  her  bitter  feeling 
toward  Hazel,  an  emotion  which  had  lain  partially 
dormant  during  her  recent  trouble. 

Once  she  had  been  nearly  overmastered  by  it, 
—  that  morning  in  the  chamber  of  death,  when 
she  would  have  betrayed  her  mother's  trust,  but 
for  the  memory  of  her  whose  spirit  had  taken 
flight,  yet  whose  influence  lingered  to  shield  the 
child  of  mystery  from  such  pain  as  would  have 
been  born  of  the  words  Evelyn  was  tempted  to 
utter,  —  tempted  by  the  beautiful  face  which 
Evelyn  believed  to  be  the  evil  genius  of  her  life. 

She  saw  it  now,    with  the  stamp  of   suffering 


TROUBLED  PACES.  161 

thereon,  —  the  eyes  swollen  with  weeping,  the  lips 
quivering,  the  cheeks  hot  and  tear-stained.  She 
saw  the  slight  form  and  the  clasped  hands.  She 
heard  again  the  plaintive  cry,  that  would  have 
softened  a  heart  of  adamant :  "  Evelyn,  let  me 
love  you ! "  Nay,  she  laughed  bitterly  at  the 
memory  of  Hazel's  words. 

"  Let  her  love  me,  —  me,  from  whose  lips  she  has 
snatched  the  sweetest  nectar!  The  pale-faced 
sorceress !  I  will  live  to  be  revenged  on  her  !  I 
will  make  her  suffer  a  hundredfold  for  every  pang. 
She  has  cursed  my  life,  and  I  hate  her ! " 

When  Evelyn  was  ready  to  return  home,  it  was 
close  upon  sunset.  Kneeling  she  pressed  her  lips 
to  the  sacred  dust  which  held  her  parents'  ashes, 
and  then  walked  hurriedly  down  the  knoll,  out 
through  the  wicket,  into  the  open  road. 

Already  the  sky  had  assumed  faint  tints  of  rosy 
gold.  Shadows  had  lengthened  beneath  the  pines, 
until  only  an  occasional  streak  of  light  signified 
that  it  was  still  day.  Evelyn  had  never  been  alone 
in  the  forest  so  late.  Though  by  nature  intrepid, 
she  now  looked  forward  to  her  homeward  walk 
with  a  feeling  of  undefined  solicitude. 

Little  did  she  dream,  as  she  hastened  onward, 
that  a  pair  of  glittering  black  eyes,  set  in  a  pinched 
and  yellow  visage,  were  watching  her  through  a 
clump  of  cypress  shrubs,  which  grew  a  few  feet 
from  the  roadside. 

When  she  had  gone  some  distance  from  the  spot, 


162  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

a  mulatto  woman,  bent  with  infirmity,  emerged 
cautiously  from  her  hiding-place,  and  followed 
Evelyn  with  catlike  tread. 

At  length  reaching  that  section  of  the  forest  she 
most  dreaded,  Evelyn  paused  and  peered  anxiously 
about  her,  as  if  to  reassure  herself  of  safety. 
Imagine  her  terror !  A  short  distance  behind  she 
saw  a  dusky  object  shrink  suddenly  into  the 
shadows  of  a  pinetree,  as  if  to  avoid  discovery. 
For  a  moment  the  girl  stood  like  one  paralyzed. 
The  next  instant  she  would  have  shrieked  aloud  in 
sheer  fright,  had  not  her  better  reason  forbade. 

What  should  she  do,  —  run,  walk  on  as  though 
nothing  extraordinary  had  happened,  or  go  bravely 
back  and  confront  her  foe,  —  if  foe  indeed  it 
was? 

Presently  the  thought  occurred  to  her  that  her 
aunt,  becoming  anxious  at  her  prolonged  absence, 
had  sent  out  one  of  the  servants  to  escort  her 
safely  home.  Stimulated  by  this  thought  she 
resolved  to  make  assurance  doubly  sure  by  investi- 
gation, and  began  retracing  her  steps  toward  the 
dark  form,  which  she  still  saw  crouching  among  the 
shadows. 

She  had  almost  gained  the  spot,  when  suddenly 
she  recoiled  with  a  cry.  In  that  figure  she  recog- 
nized nothing  familiar,  but  saw  a  shrunken  face, 
with  eyes  which  flashed  ominously  in  the  twilight. 
The  hair,  which  might  once  have  been  a  slavegirl's 
pride,  was  now  unkempt,  and  straggled  about  her 


TROUBLED  FACES.  163 

face  and  neck  in  coarse  uneven  wisps,  giving  her  a 
witchlike  appearance. 

"  Who  are  you  ?  What  do  you  want  ?  Why 
are  you  dogging  my  footsteps  ?  "  gasped  Evelyn  in 
one  breath,  as  she  strove  against  the  awful  fear 
that  possessed  her.  Then,  encouraged  by  the 
sound  of  her  own  voice,  she  repeated :  "  Why  are 
you  following  me,  I  say  ?  Speak  !  " 

The  mysterious  creature,  frightened  by  her 
assailant's  threatening  attitude,  rather  than  her 
words,  gradually  drew  herself  up  to  her  full  height, 
and  asked,  in  a  voice  quavering  and  indistinct : 
"You  lib  at  de  great  house  yondah?"  pointing 
toward  the  Grange  with  a  motion  of  her  long,  bony 
hand. 

"  Yes,"  said  Evelyn  haughtily,  "  but  what  of  it  ? 
How  does  that  concern  you  ?  " 

For  a  moment  the  woman  maintained  silence ; 
but  she  clutched  nervously  at  her  threadbare  shawl, 
and  breathed  with  apparent  effort.  At  length  she 
placed  her  hand  over  her  chest,  from  whence  issued 
a  rattling  sound,  suggestive  of  consumption,  and 
articulated  brokenly  :  "  De  chile,  oh  missy,  —  de 
chile,  —  Hazel !  How  am  de  bressed  lamb  ?  " 

"  The  child  Hazel !  "  repeated  Evelyn  excitedly. 
Then,  struck  with  a  sudden  idea,  she  grasped  one 
of  the  mulatto's  arms  fiercely,  and  said,  in  that 
imperative  tone  which  she  knew  so  well  how  to 
command:  "Tell  me  why  you  ask  about  Hazel 
Verne  !  What  do  you  know  about  her  ?  " 


164  THE  DEATH  TliUHT. 

For  answer  the  mulatto  groaned  miserably,  as 
she  lifted  guilty  eyes  to  Evelyn's  searching  looks. 

"  You  are  silent,"  continued  the  girl.  "  I  charge 
you,  speak  at  once,  or  it  will  be  the  worse  for 
you !  "  As  she  spoke  Evelyn  drew  a  tiny  metallic 
tube  from  her  pocket,  placed  it  to  her  lips,  and 
sent  a  shrill  whistle  reverberating  through  the 
forest. 

The  woman's  obstinate  silence  maddened  her. 
Though  knowing  that  the  whistle  could  not  be 
heard  at  the  Grange,  she  believed  it  might  startle 
the  witch  into  communicativeness,  and  so  repeated 
the  sound  three  or  four  times. 

"Ah,"  cried  Evelyn  exultingly,  for  the  old 
woman  trembled  until  her  teeth  chattered  audibly, 
"  that  frightens  you,  I  see  !  Well,  it  need  not,  as 
I  did  not  call  loud  enough  to  be  heard  at  the 
house ;  but,  if  I  have  occasion,  I  can  summon  every 
one  of  my  servants.  Shall  I  do  this,  or  will  you 
speak?  Why  do  you  prowl  about  the  premises 
at  nightfall  ?  Why  do  you  ask  for  my,  —  for 
Hazel?" 

The  mulatto  dropped  upon  her  knees  and  bent 
her  head,  so  that  her  straggling  wisps  of  hair 
mingled  with  the  dust  at  Evelyn's  feet.  Then  she 
commenced  an  incoherent  muttering,  of  which 
Evelyn  could  distinguish  only  the  words,  "  My 
poo'  brack  soul,"  and,  "  I 's  a  sinnah,  wat  de  good 
Lawd  '11  soon  call  to  de  jedgment-seat." 

A  suspicion  was  slowly  awakening  in  Evelyn,  — 


TROUBLED  FACES.  165 

a  suspicion  which  transfixed  her.  She  waited 
for  the  woman's  babble  to  cease,  —  scarcely  allow- 
ing herself  to  breathe,  lest  the  spell  should  be 
broken. 

The  mulatto  was  silent  at  length,  but  she  re- 
tained her  contrite  posture  at  Evelyn's  feet  till 
the  silence  was  insupportable.  Then  Evelyn  said, 
with  less  severity :  "  Come,  get  up !  I  am  patiently 
waiting  your  confession."  A  slight  motion  in  the 
bent,  form  was  the  only  indication  that  these  words 
were  heard. 

A  sound  suddenly  broke  the  stillness,  a  sound 
which  caused  Evelyn  herself  to  start  as  if  shot,  — 
the  sound  of  approaching  footsteps. 

She  stooped,  and  almost  shrieked  in  the  mulatto's 
ear  :  "  I  have  been  heard  !  Hark  !  Someone  is 
coming!  You  have  not  another  moment  to  lose, 
if  you  wish  to  escape.  Tell  me  if  I  have  guessed 
the  truth  !  That  red  scar,  below  your  eye,  leads 
me  to  believe  you  the  woman  who  stole  JVlyrine 
Seymour  from  her  cradle  sixteen  years  ago,  — 
Philias  Ward  !  " 

At  these  words,  and  with  the  agility  peculiar  to 
her  blood,  the  woman  sprang  to  her  feet.  "Oh 
massy,  have  massy,  miss  !  "  she  entreated  wildly. 
"  I  is  dat  wicked  wretch !  I  come  all  de  way  f  om 
Memphis  t'  make  de  'knowledgment,  for  I 's  gwine 
soon  t'  die,  and  couldn't  go  afo'  de  good  Lawd 
wid  such  a  load  o'  sin.  See  !  "  reaching  under 
her  worn  shawl,  and  bringing  from  thence  a  small 


166  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

bundle,  tightly  wrapped  in  oilskin.  "  Dar  's  de 
bressed  gal's  close,  as  she  wored  'em  wen  I  carr'd 
her  away  f  om  her  fam'ly.  My  honey  chile  !  Fo' 
more  'n  dese  fibteen  yeah  I 's  done  kep'  track  ob 
her,  an'  now  I  knowed  my  days  was  so  nigh  done 
for,  I  come  way  down  heah  to  Floridy  t'  make  dis 
'fession,  an'  t'  see  de  lamb  resto'ed  to  de  bosom 
ob  her  fam'ly.  Oh  p'omise  me,  miss,  p'omise 
me  —  " 

"  To  the  forest  yonder !  Hide  yourself !  "  cried 
Evelyn,  thrusting  the  other's  trembling  hand  aside 
violently,  as  she  extended  it  in  a  gesture  of  entreaty. 
"Trust  all  to  me,  and  fly!  My  aunt,  Mrs.  Sey- 
mour, is  coming !  I  hear  her  voice !  She  will 
recognize  you ! " 

A  startled  cry  rang  out  upon  the  calm  air, 
and  the  next  moment  the  mulatto  darted  into  the 
woods  with  the  speed  of  an  adder. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

DARKSOME    DEEDS. 

'T  WAS  strange,  't  was  passing  strange ; 
'T  was  pitiful,  't  was  wondrous  pitiful. 

OTHELLO. 

ALONE  stood  Evelyn,  like  one  awakened 
suddenly  from  a  dream.  The  deathlike 
solitude  about  her  was  interrupted  ever  and  anon 
by  the  plaintive  murmuring  of  the  pines,  and  by 
the  sound  of  those  steadily  approaching  footsteps. 
The  tall  sentinels  of  the  forest  gradually  shaped 
themselves  into  form  as  the  moon  arose,  gilding 
their  dark  tops  and  peopling  the  ground  beneath 
with  a  thousand  spectral  shadows. 

Beneath  the  light  mantle  which  Evelyn  wore 
she  thrust  the  bundle  given  her  by  the  mulatto. 
Whichever  way  she  glanced,  she  seemed  to 
encounter  that  repellent,  yellow  face,  with  its  wild 
eyes  and  straggling  hair.  It  glared  at  her  from 
behind  each  tree,  and  rose,  goblinlike,  from  the 
shadows  in  the  white  road.  This  shadow  terrified 
her  almost  to  the  verge  of  insanity.  At  her  right 
the  deep  ravine,  previously  referred  to,  divided  the 
even  ground,  and  yawned  in  channel-like  chaos ; 
while  from  its  mysterious  pits  there  issued  the 
lonesome  chirrup  of  myriads  of  insects.  It  was  on 
(167) 


168  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

this  very  spot  the  evil  spirit  had  seemed  to  mock 
Evelyn  an  hour  previous.  Suddenly  remembering 
this  she  essayed  to  glide  forward,  but  found  herself 
held  footfast,  like  one  possessed  with  nightmare. 
Again  she  seemed  to  hear  that  fiendish  spirit : 
"Misery,  misery!"  The  atmosphere  was  astir 
with  that  one  word,  and  she  pressed  her  clammy 
^alms  hard  against  her  throbbing  temples,  as  if  to 
assure  herself  that  she  was  awake. 

"  I  am  surely  going  mad !  "  she  cried  aloud  ;  and 
the  sound  of  her  voice  was  certainly  like  some 
demented  creature's.  What  awful  information  was 
this,  written  upon  her  brain  in  letters  of  flame  ? 
"  Hazel  Verne  and  Myrine  Seymour !  "  Uncon- 
sciously she  repeated  the  two  names  aloud ;  but 
the  next  moment  she  checked  herself,  and  glanced 
shuddering  about,  as  if  to  be  sure  that  she  had 
not  been  overheard. 

At  this  moment  two  dark  figures  came  into  view, 
past  an  abrupt  turn  in  the  road,  and  with  a  glad 
cry  she  pressed  forward  to  meet  them.  "  Aunt !  " 
she  cried  tremulously.  "  I  heard  your  voice,  and 
have  been  waiting  for  you  here.  I  have  had  a 
fright,  and  could  n't  go  another  step  alone." 

"  Hazel  and  I  were  alarmed  at  your  long 
absence,  and  we  started  out  to  meet  you,"  returned 
her  aunt,  as  she  placed  an  arm  about  Evelyn 
reassuringly.  "  We  were  on  the  road  this  side  of 
the  large  gate,"  she  continued,  "  when  we  were 
startled  by  a  whistle,  which  Hazel  recognized  as 


DARKSOME  'DEEDS.  169 

one  which  you  use  to  call  your  deer  in  the  park. 
We  were  afraid  you  were  in  peril,  and  hurried  on 
as  fast  as  possible.  Oh,  my  dear!  You  gave  us  a 
great  fright.  My  breath  is  nearly  gone !  But 
there !  I  am  selfish ;  for  I  see  you  are  pale  and 
excited.  What  has  happened  to  alarm  you  ?  " 

"Am  I  pale,  really?"  asked  Evelyn  with  a 
forced  laugh.  "  Why,  it  was  nothing,  after  all,  — 
nothing  but  an  old  negress,  whom  I  saw  as  I  looked 
back  over  the  road  behind  me.  I  fancied  she  was 
following  me  with  ill-will.  More  for  amusement 
than  otherwise  I  sounded  this  little  whistle,  which 
for  years  I  have  used  to  summon  my  pets,  when 
they  stray  too  far  away.  Oh  aunt,  you  should 
have  seen  the  creature  run !  You  would  have 
laughed.  At  my  sudden  alarm  she  darted  into  the 
forest  like  an  antelope."  Evelyn  concluded  her 
distorted  narrative  with  nervous  laughter. 

Marvelling  much  at  her  niece's  want  of  dignity, 
Mrs.  Seymour  said  reprovingly  :  "  You  did  wrong, 
Evelyn,  to  frighten  the  poor  woman.  She  may 
have  belonged  to  the  Grange." 

"  No,"  replied  Evelyn  positively,  "  I  saw  her 
face  plainly,  and  it  was  strange  to  me." 

"  What  then  could  have  been  her  business  in 
this  lonely  place  ?  Why  did  you  not  question 
her  ? "  continued  her  aunt  seriously. 

"  I  thought  such  a  step  uncalled  for,  as  it  was 
clear  to  me  that  she  was  malicious,  stealing  catlike 
about  our  premises  after  dark ;  but  come,  aunt, 


170  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

why  are  we  standing  here  ?  After  all,  no  harm  has 
been  done.  I  am  chilled,  and  anxious  to  get 
home."  So  the  three,  Mrs.  Seymour  with  one  arm 
about  each  niece,  turned  backward  toward  the 
house. 

Evelyn  still  trembled,  despite  her  effort  at 
calmness,  and  her  aunt,  misinterpreting  her  tremor, 
presently  said:  "You  were  very  imprudent  to 
remain  out  so  late,  with  so  thin  a  cloak.  These 
September  evenings  are  sometimes  sharp  and 
frosty.  You  have  not  been  quite  well,  and  should 
have  more  regard  for  your  health." 

"I  sat  beside  the  graves  deep  in  thought,  uncon- 
scious of  the  cold  and  the  lapse  of  time,  till  I  was 
suddenly  aware  that  the  sun  had  set.  Then  I 
came  away  hurriedly,  thinking  I  could  still  reach 
home  before  nightfall;  but  our  twilights  are  so 
brief !  I  had  walked  but  a  short  distance  before 
dusk  closed  in.  I  was  not  in  darkness  long,  how- 
ever, for  presently  the  moon  rose ;  and  then  the 
darkened  amphitheatre,  as  by  some  trick  of 
enchantment,  was  abruptly  transformed  into  a 
grandly  illumined  dome,  —  still  as  death,  but 
populated  by  such  fantastic  shapes  that  I  paused, 
glad  to  be  there.  I  love  these  deep  woods, 
especially  when  bathed  in  silver.  —  By  the  «way, 
Aunt  Lydia,  did  you  ever  see  the  moon  so  splendid 
as  tonight  ?  Look !  " 

As  Evelyn'  concluded,  Hazel  lifted  her  eyes 
toward  the  Queen  of  Night,  sailing  in  majestic 


DARKSOME  DEEDS.  171 

splendor;  but  Mrs.  Seymour,  instead  of  following 
her  gaze,  looked  with  new  solicitude  into  Evelyn's 
countenance,  which,  like  Hazel's,  was  lifted  sky- 
ward. Evelyn  had  spoken  precipitately,  and  her 
words  had  been  partially  incoherent.  As  her  aunt 
secretly  watched  the  pale  face,  she  believed  she 
saw  in  the  dark  eyes  a  look  of  wildness  peculiar  to 
the  victims  of  fever.  "  Poor,  dear  girl ! "  she 
thought.  "I  fear  her  mind  is  overburdened  by 
sorrow ! " 

Mrs.  Seymour  sighed  audibly;  and  Evelyn 
mistaking  this  for  a  sigh  of  ecstacy  over  the  beauty 
of  the  scene,  cried  again :  9l  Is  n't  she  superb, 
Aunt  Lydia?" 

"  Who  ?  —  Oh,  the  moon !  Certainly,  my  dear !  " 
stammered  Mrs.  Seymour,  confused  at  her  own 
distraction.  "  I  think  I  have  never  seen  a  more 
perfect  night,"  she  added. 

When  they  reached  the  Grange,  dinner  was 
waiting;  but  Evelyn  hurried  to  her  chamber,  to 
leave  her  gloves  and  hat,  —  and  the  bundle  wrapped 
in  oilskin. 

During  the  dinner  Mrs.  Seymour  watched  her 
niece  covertly,  feeling  certain  that  she  saw  beneath 
the  calm  exterior  unmistakable  signs  of  abnormal 
excitement.  Now  and  then  she  would  see  Evelyn's 
cadaverous  cheeks  flush  suddenly,  and  the  same 
wild  look,  noticeable  in  the  moonlit  forest,  would 
again  leap  into  the  brown  eyes,  making  them  glare 
with  a  light  not  pleasant  to  behold.  Twice  Evelyn 


172  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

had  her  glass  refilled  with  the  ruby  elixir  that 
warms  the  blood,  and  often  inveigles  men  into 
deeds  from  which  they  would  turn  with  abhorrence, 
if  not  under  its  influence.  By  the  time  the  dessert 
was  served,  a  hectic  glow  tinted  both  cheeks,  and 
the  girl  became  so  jovial  that  her  companions 
could  do  nothing  but  exchange  questioning  glances. 
Both  Mrs.  Seymour  and  Hazel  were  filled  with 
amazement  at  the  conduct  of  this  changed  woman, 
who  usually  looked  upon  claret  with  disgust,  and 
scorned  a  jest,  unless  peculiarly  Srilliant. 

"  You  are  not  welL  dear  niece !  "  her  aunt  could 
not  resist  saying,  as^ney  arose  from  table. 

"  I  ?  "  retorted  Evelyn  laughingly.  "  Why,  dear 
aunt,  you  mistake !  I  was  never  in  more  perfect 
health  and  spirits." 

"  But,"  remonstrated  her  aunt,  despite  the 
ringing  laugh,  "your  cheeks  and  eyes  denote 
feverishness.  Come  with  me  to  the  cool  veranda, 
and  confide  in  me,  if  there  is  anything  troubling 
you !  Come,  darling !  "  and  she  placed  her  caress- 
ing arms  about  the  young  girl's  waist ;  while  Hazel 
passed  down  the  hall  towards  her  own  room,  as 
Evelyn  pressed  a  hot  kiss  upon  her  aunt's  cheek. 

"  Why,  best  of  aunts,  you  are  needlessly  con- 
cerned. I  assure  you  I  am  perfectly  well.  I  must 
beg  you  to  excuse  me  tonight  from  remaining 
downstairs,  however.  I  have  several  important 
letters  to  write,  and  have  told  Phebe  to  build  a 
fire  in  my  room.  So  now  goodnight,  dear ;  and 
remember,  do  riot  worry  about  me." 


DARKSOME  DEEDS.  173 

Another  impulsive  caress,  and  then  the  young 
lady  ran  upstairs  quickly.  "  At  last  I  shall  be  alone 
with  my  secret !  "  she  whispered  exultantly,  as  she 
glided  along  the  dim  upper  corridor. 

Having  locked  and  bolted  the  door,  she  ap- 
proached the  chandelier,  turning  up  the  blaze  to 
such  a  glare  that  not  a  recess  in  the  apartment  was 
left  in  shadow.  Standing  underneath  the  shim- 
mering crystal  pendants,  she  looked  as  Lady 
Macbeth  might  have  looked,  contemplating  the 
sleeping  Duncan.  With  an  expression  of  ill  intent 
her  eyes  sought  the  silk-draped  bed  in  the  alcove, 
and  her  bosom  rose  and  fell  tumultuously  as  she 
breathed  the  inaudible  words  :  "  It  is  there !  It 
is  there  ! !  " 

Next  she  took  a  full  survey  of  the  room,  as  if 
to  make  sure  she  was  alone.  The  result  was 
evidently  unsatisfactory,  for  going  to  the  window 
she  pulled  aside  the  heavy  hangings,  that  she  might 
have  a  clear  view  of  the  deep  recess  behind.  Then 
she  went  to  the  closet,  and  peered  searchingly 
within.  Finally  she  crossed  over  to  the  alcove, 
and  made  a  circuit  around  the  bed,  to  convince 
herself  that  no-one  was  lurking  behind  those 
crimson  draperies,  to  spy  upon  her  deeds.  This 
investigation  ended,  she  gave  a  sigh  of  relief. 

"  I  have  no  witnesses  !  "  she  said  in  a  portentous 
whisper.  "  Walls  are  said  to  have  ears ;  but  for- 
tunately they  are  blind  and  mute."  The  flush  had 
heightened  on  Evelyn's  cheeks,  and  her  eyes 


174  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

glowed  like  coals  of  fire  behind  their  raven  fringes. 
Indeed  she  looked  like  a  beautiful  fiend,  as  she 
lifted  one  of  the  lace- trimmed  pillows,  and  took 
from  beneath  the  sheets  the  oilskin  bundle  which 
lay  there  concealed. 

Seating  herself  on  a  hassock  she  untied  the  cord, 
though  her  fingers  shook  almost  beyond  control. 
At  length  the  clumsy  wrapper  revealed  something 
which  once  was  white  as  the  driven  snow,  but  now 
bore  the  sallow  tinge  which  time  and  exclusion 
from  the  light  bring  to  linen. 

For  a  moment  Evelyn  hesitated,  ere  she  could 
touch  it.  "  This  once  caressed  the  flesh  of  sweet 
infancy.  It  is  too  pure  even  to  be  fanned  by  my 
breath,"  she  said  to  herself;  but  this  thought 
haunted  her  but  momentarily.  She  laughed  at  her 
own  weakness.  Lifting  the  topmost  garment  she 
shook  out  its  long  and  soft  folds.  The  delicate 
odor  of  some  rare  perfume  still  pervaded  the  linen, 
whose  texture  was  elaborately  inwrought  with 
needlework;  while  on  each  shoulder  was  a  tiny 
knot  of  faded  blue  ribbon. 

Evelyn  examined  the  baby-robe  narrowly,  in 
quest  of  some  initial  or  mark  which  might  corro- 
borate the  mulatto's  story.  Presently  a  low  cry 
burst  involuntarily  from  her  lips.  Written  on  the 
lining  of  the  belt,  with  indelible  ink,  was  the 
name,  Myrine.  "Her  dress!  "  she  said  under  her 
breath;  and  the  color  vanished  from  cheek  and 
lip,  making  them  the  ghastly  companions  of  the 
linen. 


f 

DARKSOME  DEEDS.  175 

After  awhile  she  went  on,  as  in  a  dream,  exam- 
ining, one  by  one,  the  tiny  garments,  finding  in 
each  the  same  carefully  wrought  needlework  and 
the  same  delicate  scroll,  wherein  she  read  that 
name,  in  bold  letters,  Myrine. 

Evelyn  inspected  and  refolded  the  last  piece. 
Then,  inspired  by  that  name,  which  seemed  re- 
peated by  a  hundred  invisible  spirits,  and  haunted 
by  the  memory  of  the  cry  she  had  heard  from  her 
aunt  that  day,  "  Can  I  forget  the  sorrow  that  has 
haunted  me  for  sixteen  years !  "-  —  she  went  to  the 
window,  and  flung  open  the  broad  sash  to  the  cool 
night  air,  thinking  it  might  overcome  the  faintness 
which  seized  her;  as  it  did  in  a  degree.  Long 
she  remained  behind  the  curtains,  before  she  could 
bring  herself  again  to  look  at  that  little  pile  of 
baby-garments. 

At  length  she  left  the  window.  An  awful  look 
gleamed  in  her  eyes.  Her  lips  were  rigidly  set,  as 
with  a  mighty  resolve.  As  she  once  more  drew 
near  the  hassock  she  paused  abruptly,  arrested  by 
the  sight  of  a  folded  paper,  which  had  lain  unno- 
ticed on  the  carpet. 

"  What  can  this  be  ?  "  she  wondered.  She  was 
not  long  in  suspense.  On  the  paper  she  read  the 
address,  in  crooked  chirography : 

Mistis  Weldon  or  to  hoc  somedever  opens  this 
bundel. 


Divining,  of  course,  that  this  note  belonged  with 


176  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

the  linen,  but  had  slipped  from  the  folds  unseen, 
Evelyn  opened  it,  and  by  dint  of  long  perseverance, 
deciphered  the  crude  negro  expressions,  which 
were  meant  to  read  thus  : 

MEMPHIS,  July  3. 

HEAR  the  confession  of  a  dying  woman,  and  grant  her 
prayer ! 

On  the  nineteenth  of  January,  18 — ,  I  was  dismissed  for 
theft  from  the  employ  of  my  mistress,  Mrs.  Lydia  Seymour, 
of  New  Orleans.  I  was  angry,  and  resolved  to  be  revenged 
on  the  woman  who  had  turned  me  out  of  the  shelter  that 
had  been  mine  from  infancy.  So  when  night  came  on,  I 
crept  to  the  nursery,  where  her  twin-babies,  Myrtle  and 
Myrine,  were  sleeping  in  their  cradle,  and  I  took  Myrine, 
aged  two  mouths,  and  wrapped  her  in  a  woollen  shawl,  and 
stole  with  her  out  into  the  night. 

I  walked  to  the  ferry,  and  took  a  steamer  the  same  night 
for  Memphis ;  and  one  stormy  night,  about  a  week  follow- 
ing, I  placed  the  babe  on  the  doorstep  of  Mr.  Henry  Verne, 
of  146  June  Street,  into  whose  service  I  entered  as  nurse 
three  days  afterward.  I  wished  to  be  near  the  child,  little 
Myrine,  whom,  despite  my  wickedness,  I  loved  with  all  my 
soul.  Mrs.  Verne,  her  foster-mother,  was  an  invalid,  and 
died  a  few  weeks  after  adopting  the  little  babe;  but  Mr. 
Verne  loved  Myrine,  and  no  one  believed  that  she  was  not 
his  own  flesh  and  blood.  None  suspected  me  of  bringing 
her  to  his  door,  and  for  nearly  twelve  years  I  remained 
with  him  as  nurse  to  his  adopted  daughter. 

They  called  her  Hazel;  but  sometimes,  when  I  was 
alone  with  my  beautiful  darling,  I  could  not  help  calling 
her  Myrifie,  —  the  name  was  so  pretty,  and  seemed  to  suit 
her  so  well,  with  her  large  blue  eyes  and  golden  hair. 

One  day  Mr.  Verne  was  taken  sick.  He  was  paralyzed ; 
and  when  he  could  no  longer  pay  his  bills,  they  came  and 
sold  the  roof  over  his  head,  —  my  poor,  kind  master!  He 
was  good  to  me,  and  I  loved  him!  He  knew  that  he  would 
soon  die,  and  one  day  he  asked  me  to  take  a  despatch  to 


DARKSOME  DEEDS.  177 

the  office.  It  was  for  his  sister,  Mrs.  Gerald  Weldon,  who 
lived  near  the  town  of  Jasper,  in  Florida.  He  told  me 
afterward  that  he  was  going  to  ask  her  to  take  his  little 
Hazel,  and  raise  her  to  womanhood.  I  said  nothing ;  but  I 
ran  away,  for  I  did  not  want  to  see  the  lady  who  was 
coming  to  take  away  my  darling. 

That  was  four  years  ago.  Consumption  has  been  feeding 
upon  me  these  years,  and  has  about  finished  its  work. 
Soon  nothing  will  be  left  of  me  but  a  mass  of  dust.  So  I, 
Philias  Ward,  Myrine  Seymour's  wicked  nurse,  have  made 
this  statement,  to  take  with  me  to  Florida,  where  I  am 
going  to  seek  Mrs  Weldon,  and  give  this,  together  with 
Myriue's  b^,by-clothes,  into  her  hands,  or  into  those  of  some 
of  her  household.  I  shall  then  run  away  and  hide  myself, 
to  die  somewhere. 

Do  not  try  to  find  me.  My  guilty,  black  soul  has  pun- 
ished me  enough  for  my  sin.  It  has  eaten  my  life  away, 
and  there  is  nothing  left  for  the  law  to  feed  upon.  So  pity 
me  and  grant  my  prayer.  It  is  this:  Do  not  tell  Myrine 
that  the  mulatto  nurse  —  Dosia,  she  called  her  —  who 
watched  over  her  faithfully  for  twelve  years,  was  the 
wicked  wretch  who  stole  her  from  her  mother's  bosom. 
She  loved  me  well.  Do  not  let  her  love  turn  into  a  hate 
that  would  find  me  in  my  grave. 

Ask  my  kind  old  mistress  to  forgive  me.  She  will,  I 
know,  when  her  beautiful  daughter  is  given  back  to  her, 
and  she  knows  I  am  sorry  for  my  sin.  Oh,  if  I  could  see 
the  two  sisters  together  once,  I  should  die  happy!  but  I 
can  not  bear  to  look  my  mistress  in  the  face  again.  That  is 
why  I  am  going  to  Florida,  and  not  to  New  Orleans.  Mrs. 
Seymour  lives  in  New  Orleans. 

This  is  the  dying  confession  of 

PHILIAS  WARD. 


Evelyn  spelled  out  this  letter  twice.  Then  she 
deposited  it  in  a  private  drawer  in  her  desk,  under 
lock  and  key,  and  sat  down  to  think. 

A  mockingbird   sang   in   the   tree    outside  her 


178  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

window;  but  she  remained  unconscious  of  its  notes. 
The  bird  sang  on,  as  if  to  divert  her  thoughts  from 
the  dangerous  path  into  which  they  had  strayed, 
but  she  remained  like  a  statue,  her  head  thrown 
back  against  the  cushions  of  her  chair,  her  eyes 
closed ;  yet  no  slumber  came  to  Evelyn  that  night. 
She  courted  it  not,  but  went  on  building  mental 
barriers  between  Hazel  arid  the  truth,  —  a  truth 
securely  hidden  from  all  save  herself,  —  and  — 
God,  who  could  not  smile  upon  the  wicked,  or 
sanction  their  dark  deeds. 

When  Evelyn  at  last  unclosed  her  eyes,  the 
silver  clock  was  striking  four.  She  went  to  the 
window.  The  moon  still  held  its  vigil,  but  was 
behind  a  dark  cloud,  and  near  its  setting. 

Noting  the  gloom  a  sudden  determination  seized 
her.  She  hurried  to  the  closet,  and  took  therefrom 
a  long  waterproof,  in  which  she  wrapped  herself 
closely.  Carefully  replacing  the  little  garments  in 
the  oilskin,  she  was  ready  to  venture  forth ;  but, 
as  if  a  new  thought  had  occurred  to  her,  she  said 
aloud:  "I  can  not  trust  the  weight  of  a  chance 
stone,  but  must  have  something  heavy  enough  to 
keep  my  secret  down." 

Going  again  to  her  desk  she  counted  out  twenty 
dollars  in  silver  coin,  placed  them  in  a  strong 
leathern  purse,  which  she  concealed  inside  the 
bundle.  Lifting  this,  and  apparently  satisfied  with 
the  weight,  she  darkened  her  room  and  then  went 
noiselessly  down  the  narrow  back  staircase,  and 


DARKSOME  DEEDS.  179 

was  soon  speeding  along  the  magnolia  avenue, 
toward  the  orange  orchard. 

The  sinking  moon  struggled  behind  a  fretwork 
of  clouds,  so  that  Evelyn  was  in  almost  total  dark- 
ness ;  but  this  was  favorable.  Knowing  well  her 
path  she  continued  her  way  through  the  garden 
gate,  and  then  over  the  path  running  through  the 
orchard  toward  the  lake.  As  she  gained  the 
willow  skirting  a  faint  light  began  to  gleam  over 
the  quiet  surface. 

"  All  is  favorable  to  me,"  she  told  herself. '  "  I 
need  a  little  light  to  select  a  good  spot." 

She  stood  on  the  brink  of  the  shadowed  waters, 
watching  them  grow  brighter  and  brighter. 
Toward  a  tuft  of  lilypads  she  directed  her  eyes,  as 
if  calculating  the  intervening  distance. 

Presently  there  was  a  whir-r-r^  a  thud,  a  splash, 
followed  by  a  sudden  sparkling  in  the  water,  as 
though  some  magician  had  wrought  a  sudden 
transformation.  There  were  widening  circles  near 
the  lily-tuft,  as  if  some  object  had  broken  into  its 
placid  surface. 

The  next  instant  Evelyn  became  conscious  of  a 
breathing  presence  near.  She  suppressed  the  cry 
which  rose  to  her  lips,  and  looked  anxiously  around. 
A  moving  object  met  her  gaze.  Bijou !  First 
he  fixed  his  eloquent  eyes  upon  her  face.  Then 
he  looked  out  upon  the  water,  and  howled. 


CHAPTER  XX. 


No  compunctious  visitings  of  nature  shall 
Shake  my  fell  purpose.    MACBETH. 

AT  the  close  of  another  fortnight  came  Mrs. 
Ormsby,  a  middle-aged  Creole  of  genteel 
address,  to  act  as  chaperon  to  Evelyn.  When 
she  was  duly  installed,  Mrs.  Seymour  announced 
her  own  early  departure,  as  Myrtle  had  written 
that  the  Heights  were  no  longer  bearable  without 
her  mother's  presence.  Vainly  did  Evelyn  entreat 
her  aunt  to  protract  her  stay  for  at  least  another 
fortnight. 

"  I  can  not  bear  to  look  forward  to  the  lonely 
days  that  must  follow  your  leave-taking,  Aunt 
Lydia,"  she  saicfc,  with  genuine  tears  in  her  eyes, 
as  they  stood,  one  chilly  evening,  before  the 
library  grate,  wherein  the  cannel  coal  crackled 
cheerfully. 

If  there  was  any  real  affection  left  in  this 
revengeful  woman,  it  was  centred  upon  her 
mother's  sister.  Though  guilty  of  the  crime  of 
concealment  towards  her  aunt,  this  was  not  because 
she  loved  Mrs.  Seymour  less,  but  that  she  loved 
self  more ;  for  jealousy  outstripped  the  purer 
sentiment. 

(180) 


A  SISTER'S  LEGACY.  181 

Evelyn  felt  the  hypocrisy  of  her  words,  even 
while  she  uttered  them,  and  the  soft  caress  which 
fell  upon  her  cheek  became  hateful  to  her.  She 
averted  her  face  from  her  aunt's  glance,  to  conceal 
the  flush  of  shame  which  she  felt  glowing  within. 
The  flesh  seemed  to  burn,  as  though  caustic  had 
touched  the  spot  where  Mrs.  Seymour's  kiss  had 
rested. 

Noting  Evelyn's  trouble,  and  mistaking  it  for 
grief,  Mrs.  Seymour  discreetly  went  to  the  window, 
partly  to  dry  her  own  eyes. 

"  I  have  been  thinking,  Evelyn,"  said  she, 
presently  returning  to  the  hearth-rug,  "  what  I 
might  ask  of  you  in  the  way  of  a  keepsake  from 
Julia's  jewel-case.  The  stone-cameo  set  she  used 
to  wear  so  much,  —  do  you  think  you  could  part 
with  that  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  Aunt  Lydia !  The  cameos  shall  be 
yours  without  the  asking,  for  they  descended  from 
your  grandmother,"  returned  Evelyn  calmly.  "  I 
have  thought  several  times  of  bringing  out 
mamma's  casket  of  treasures,  that  you  might  select 
some  other  relic  besides  the  cameos.  I  will  fetch 
it." 

The  side  corridor  which  led  to  Mrs.  Weldon's 
special  apartments  had  been  seldom  trodden  since 
her  death,  for  the  door  which  opened  into  them 
was  usually  locked.  No  one  wished  to  enter 
rooms  rendered  sacred  by  death's  presence.  As 
Evelyn  turned  the  key,  and  noiselessly  crossed  the 


182  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

threshold,  she  was  struck  with  nameless  awe,  and 
felt  herself  in  an  accusing  presence. 

She  alone  could  realize  what  had  occurred  since 
that  gentle  presence  was  called  to  Heaven.  She 
had  sinned ;  and  the  awful  insight  of  condemnation 
was  hers.  She  shrunk  from  the  gloomy  silence  of 
the  room.  With  clasped  hands  she  uttered  this 
wish  in  remorseful  tones  :  "  Oh  God,  had  mother 
lived ! " 

Then  she  pondered  silently,  yet  without  altering 
her  position  :  "  Had  my  mother  lived,  what  then  ? 
How  many  hearts  might  have  been  throbbing 
tonight  with  joy  unutterable?  Then  Aubrey 
Deverell  would  have  exulted  over  a  different 
union,  leaving  me  to  drink  my  cup  of  bitterness 
alone.  Mine  would  have  been  the  misery,  —  but 
not  —  not  this  guilty  conscience !  Oh,  this  darkness 
is  unbearable !  Mother,  mother  !  Do  not  look  at 
me  so  !  I  can  not  bear  your  accusing  eyes." 

She  almost  groped  her  way  across  the  room  to 
the  window,  and  hastily  pushed  aside  the  shutters. 
A  flood  of  light  from  the  setting  sun  poured  itself 
across  the  bright  carpet,  and  brought  each  piece  of 
furniture  into  plain  relief.  It  put  to  flight  some  of 
Evelyn's  dread ;  and  she  breathed  more  freely,  as 
she  suffered  her  eyes  to  wander  about  the  familiar 
apartment.  The  tears  gathered,  as  she  saw  the 
wicker  basket,  with  its  bit  of  needlework,  folded 
neatly,  lying  on  the  top. 

"  Poor,  poor  mamma  !  "  she  murmured,  touching 


A  SIS  TEE'S  LEG  A  C  Y.  1 83 

the  delicate  fabric  reverently,  as  though  it  was  an 
altar-cloth.  "  I  would  kiss  your  work,  but  my  lips 
are  unworthy !  They  would  stain  the  flowers  your 
pure  fingers  were  so  patiently  tracing." 

Faster  and  faster  fell  the  tears,  and  Evelyn  cried 
out  half-coherently :  "  If  you  had  lived,  this 
terrible  temptation  would  not  have  come  to  me ; 
but  you  were  snatched  away,  and  when  it  came,  I 
fell.  Oh  —  mother,  mother!  If  you  are  looking 
down  upon  me  now,  pity,  oh  pity,  and  do  not 
censure  me  wholly !  I  yielded  to  sin,  because  of  my 
love  for  him.  I  loved  him  so  !  I  loved  him  so  ! 
She  robbed  me,  and  I  have  sought  revenge  !  " 

For  some  moments  her  melting' mood  lasted,  but 
no  contrition  hallowed  it.  No  ministering  angel 
came  to  warn  Evelyn  that  there  was  yet  time  to 
repent  of  her  wickedness,  —  that  by  one  brief  word 
she  could  weld  the  broken  links  of  a  home-circle, 
win  to  herself  heartfelt  gratitude,  make  herself  a 
very  goddess  of  salvation  in  the  eyes  of  him  whose 
name  she  worshipped.  No !  Heaven's  'appealing 
spirit  came  not  to  Evelyn's  heart. 

Gradually  the  tears  dried  upon  her  cheek,  as 
vengeful  thoughts  outweighed  her  sorrow,  and  she 
moved  toward  the  India  cabinet,  where  her 
mother's  jewels  had  always  been  kept.  The 
cabinet  was  locked;  but  Evelyn  found  —  in  the 
bunch  it  was  her  mother's  wont  to  carry  —  a  small 
key,  of  peculiar  workmanship,  which  she  recognized 
as  belonging  to  the  box. 


184  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

She  had  no  difficulty  in  finding  the  casket  of 
gems ;  but,  instead  of  taking  it  from  the  cabinet, 
she  set,  about  examining  certain  papers  in  the 
drawer  near  it.  They  seemed  to  contain  nothing 
of  special  importance  to  her.  There  was  however 
a  packet  of  letters,  yellow  with  age  and  tied  with 
a  blue  ribbon.  Evelyn  recognized  the  handwriting 
as  her  father's  ;  and  there  were  a  few  old  bank 
checks,  which  she  listlessly  tossed  aside. 

Presently,  in  a  compartment  all  by  itself,  she 
espied  something  which  attracted  her  keenest 
interest,  —  an  envelop  bearing  a  red  seal,  and  this 
inscription : 

Sacred  to  my  dear  Sister, 

Mrs.  Lydia   Verne   Seymour. 

The  tempter,  once  more  sovereign  in  Evelyn's 
nature,  needed  but  a  moment  to  convince  her  that 
it  would  be  wise  to  unravel  the  mystery  of  this 
sealed  document.  Held  by  a  power  she  could 
not  resist,'  she  tore  open  the  letter  with  steady 
fingers,  and  read  the  lines,  never  designed  for  other 
eyes  than  those  of  Mrs.  Weldon's  twin-sister. 

WELL  aware,  my  dear  Lydia,  that  the  dread  malady, 
heart-disease,  which  through  generations  has  been  our 
family  doom,  will  claim  me  as  one  of  its  heirs,  and  well 
knowing  how  unexpectedly  it  calls  upon  its  subjects  to 
relinquish  earthly  claims,  I  herein  make  an  avowal  to  you 
which  must  ever  remain  a  secret  between  you  and  your 
God. 

Three  years  ago,  when  our  brother  Henry  died,  leaving 
little  Hazel  as  a  sacred  charge  to  me,  he  also  told  me  a 


A  SIS TEK S  LEGACY.  185 

secret  attending  her  birth,  which  had  never  before  passed 
beyond  the  knowledge  of  himself,  his  wife,  and  of  one  other 
person  unknown. 

It  was  this  :  Hazel  was  not  his  child  by  birthright  but 
only  by  adoption.  They  reared  her  in  ignorance  of  the  truth ; 
and  brother's  dying  prayer  was,  that  this  ignorance  should 
remain  with  Hazel  until  her  life's  end.  I  have  been  true  to 
his  trust.  Through  three  long  years  I  have  guarded  my 
vow  religiously.  But  you  are  part  of  me,  Lydia,  and  I  feel 
that  in  case  of  my  sudden  demise,  ere  Hazel  attains 
majority,  you  will  accept  her  as  our  departed  brother 
bequeathed  her  to  me  —  as  a  child  whose  origin  is  sacredly 
consecrated  unto  mystery,  and  must  ever  so  remain. 

Accept  my  legacy,  dear  sister,  in  memory  of  the  dead; 
and  look  upon  my  sunny-haired  darling,  whose  nature 
corresponds  in  every  way  with  the  beauty  of  her  face,  as 
one  God-given,  to  fill  the  vacancy  of  her  whom  you  have 
long  mourned.  This  is  the  will  of 

your  affectionate  sister, 

JULIA  VERNE  WELDON. 
Written,  May  12,  18—. 


The  appealing  voice  had  come  at  last  to  Evelyn. 
The  duskiness  had  deepened,  so  that  every  object 
in  the  room  now  assumed  a  ghastly  shape,  and  the 
close  air  seemed  filled  with  the  presence  of  the 
archangel. 

Evelyn  had  stood  by  the  window  in  order  to 
decipher  the  small  chirography  of  the  hand  now 
stilled  forever.  As  she  finished,  and  turned  her 
face  again  toward  the  grayish  gloom,  her  face 
shone  like  marble.  She  shrank  from  the  solitude 
back  into  the  window's  recess,  pulling  the  curtains 
together,  to  shut  out  the  scene. 

"  Regard  your  dead  mother's  most  holy  wish  !  " 


186  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

a  voice  seemed  to  counsel.  She  groaned  aloud  in 
her  anguish  :  "  I  can  not !  It  is  too  late  !  I  can 
not !  "  "I can  not !  I  CAN  NOT !  "  seemed  to  echo 
back  to  her  from  the  silent  chamber. 

Faintness  was  overcoming  Evelyn.  She  forced 
herself  to  come  from  behind  the  draperies  and  go 
to  the  cabinet.  Thrusting  the  letter  inside  the 
little  drawer,  where  she  had  found  it,  she  securely 
locked  the  desk  and  turned  to  fly  from  the  room. 
She  had  almost  reached  the  door  when,  involun- 
tarily glancing  above  the  fireplace,  she  met  her 
mother's  solemn  eyes,  looking  down  upon  her  from 
a  massive  gold  frame.  In  the  gloaming  they  had 
a  beseeching  expression. 

One  low  shriek  Evelyn  uttered.  Then  she  tore 
herself  from  the  apartment,  and  ran  downstairs  to 
the  library,  there  to  fall  swooning  to  the  floor, 
while  flashing  about  her  lay  the  scattered  contents 
of  the  jewel-casket. 


CHAPTER   XXI. 

A    FRIEND    IN    NEED. 

So  lonely  't  was,  that  God  himself 
Scarce  seemed  there  to  be. 

COLERIDGE. 

THE  day  of  Mrs.  Seymour's  departure  had 
arrived.  It  was  early  in  the  afternoon,  and 
she  sat  alone  in  the  library,  her  eyes  directed 
wistfully  towards  the  door,  through  which  she 
momentarily  expected  Hazel  to  enter. 

The  elder  lady  had  sent  word  to  the  dear  girl 
that  she  wished  to  take  a  private  farewell  of  her. 
All  day  long  her  heart  had  throbbed  with  an 
unutterable  longing  for  this  niece,  whom  she  had 
begun  to  love  with  an  affection  almost  as  profound 
as  that  which  she  bore  for  her  own  Myrtle. 

The  thought  of  parting  with  Hazel  for  an  in- 
definite time  filled  Mrs.  Seymour  with  pain,  but 
she  strove  bravely  to  repress  the  tears  which 
veiled  her  eyes,  for  she  wished  to  render  the 
leave-taking  less  painful  to  Hazel. 

At  length  she  heard  soft  footsteps  along  the 

hallway.      The  door    opened,  and  Hazel  crossed 

the   room,   her   hands   clasped    before    her,   in   a 

manner   peculiar  to  the   girl  when  under  strong 

(187) 


188  THE   DEATH   TRUST. 

emotion.  Her  eyelids  were  red  with  weeping ; 
her  look  was  bent  upon  the  floor. 

"  You  sent  for  me,  Aunt  Lydia !    I  am  come ! " 

"  Have  you  been  all  day  in  your  room,  my  love  ? 
I  have  not  seen  you  since  breakfast,"  said  Mrs. 
Seymour,  drawing  Hazel  gently  toward  her,  and 
pressing  a  lingering  kiss  upon  the  tear-stained 
dieek. 

"  No,  aunt,  I  have  been  down  to  the  lake.  I 
always  go  there  when  I  am  lonely."  She  lifted 
her  beautiful  eyes  to  Mrs.  Seymour,  and  they 
were  filled  with  a  longing  which  reached  to  the 
heart. 

"  Myrtle  shall  come  to  Florida  during  her  next 
summer  vacation,  and  make  you  a  long  visit," 
pursued  the  lady,  trying  to  throw  cheerfulness 
into  her  tone.  "When  I  am  gone  you  must  let 
the  thought  of  her  future  coming  serve  as  a  barrier 
against  loneliness." 

At  these  words  part  of  the  sorrow  in  Hazel's 
face  disappeared,  like  a  cloud  before  a  ray  of 
sunshine. 

"  Oh  dear  Aunt  Lydia,  if  you  would  indeed  let 
Myrtle  come !  I  think  I  could  bear  almost  any 
degree  of  misery,  if  I  were  sure  of  seeing  her 
again." 

"  Misery,  child  ?  Misery  f  Why  should  you 
utter  that  word?  What  do  you  know  of  misery?" 
cried  Mrs  Seymour,  drawing  the  girl  impulsively 
to  her  breast.  "  What  is  there  of  misery  in  your 
young  life,  my  pet?"  she  entreated. 


A  FRIEND  IN  NEED.  189 

"  It  often  makes  me  wretched  to  know  that 
Cousin  Evelyn  dislikes  me.  Sometimes  it  seems 
as  if  my  heart  must  break  under  her  contempt.  I 
so  long  for  her  love,  Aunt  Lydia !  I  pray,  every 
night,  for  God  to  change  her  heart  toward  me." 

Mrs.  Seymour  caressed  the  gold-touched  hair, 
upon  which  her  tears  were  now  falling. 

"You  must  not  be  discouraged,  dear  one.  Per- 
severe in  your  endeavors,  and  some  day  the  light 
of  your  character  will  find  its  way  into  Evelyn's 
regard,"  she  faltered,  when  she  could  trust  herself 
to  speak. 

"  No,  no !  "  sobbed  the  girl  bitterly.  "  Some- 
thing tells  me  that  she  will  never  soften  toward 
me.  The  days  will  be  forlorn  when  you  are  gone. 
Oh  Aunt  Lydia,  do  n't  go  out  of  my  life.  I  can 't 
bear  the  thought.  Take  me  with  you !  " 

Mrs.  Seymour  could  find  no  answer  to  this 
appeal.  She  only  pressed  the  clinging  form  closer, 
and  yielded  secretly  to  her  own  grief  as  the  other 
continued  :  "  There  is  something  in  my  heart  that 
makes  me  yearn  to  be  with  you  and  Myrtle  always ! 
That  is  what  I  can  not  express  in  words,  but  it 
seems  a  part  of  me." 

A  moment  of  poignant  silence  followed.  Mrs. 
Seymour  was  recalling  her  own  child's  words, 
spoken  over  the  dead  form  of  Mrs.  Weldon,  on 
the  day  of  the  funeral  :  "  There  is  something  in 
rny  heart  that  makes  me  yearn  for  Hazel,"*feut  I 
can  not  describe  it  in  words." 


190  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

These  utterances  of  the  two  girls  were  almost 
alike,  and  Mrs.  Seymour  felt  the  same  strange 
feeling  again  overcoming  her  which  she  had  ex- 
perienced that  day. 

"  Show  us  the  light,  oh  God,"  she  whispered. 
Hazel  heard  this  supplication,  and  felt  scalding 
drops  on  her  brow. 

"  Why  are  you  crying,  Aunt  Lydia  ?  "  she  whis- 
pered ;  but  she  only  felt  herself  held  tighter  to 
that  heaving  bosom. 

The  two  were  still  locked  in  close  embrace 
when  Evelyn  entered  the  library  abruptly.  "Aunt 
Lydia,"  said  she,  striving  to  hide  the  annoyance 
this  scene  roused  in  her  guilty  soul,  "  the  carriage 
is  waiting.  We  have  but  little  over  an  hour  for 
our  drive  to  the  station." 

Mrs.  Seymour  thereupon  unclasped  the  clinging 
arms  from  her  neck,  whispering  as  she  did  so  : 
"  May  Heaven  forever  bless  you,  darling !  "  Then 
she  hurriedly  crossed  the  room ;  but  at  the  door 
she  paused,  and  said  interrogatively :  "  You  will  of 
course  drive  to  the  station  with  us,  Hazel  ?  " 

"I  have  ordered  the  pony  phaeton,"  Evelyn 
interposed  quickly.  "There  is  scarcely  room  in 
it  for  three  !  "  Then  she  hastily  closed  the  door 
behind  them,  leaving  Hazel  alone  in  the  library, 
with  a  hopeless  expression  in  her  countenance. 

In  truth  the  girl  felt  that  the  last  ray  of  happi- 
ness was  nickering  in  its  socket,  and  she  crouched 
upon  the  floor,  inwardly  crying  out  to  God  to  let 


A  FRIEND  TN  NEED.  191 

her  die.  She  had  a  faint  remembrance  of  her 
aunt's  afterward  returning  to  the  room  to  take 
a  final  farewell ;  but  she  must  have  been  dazed, 
for  she  did  not  follow  her  out  to  the  carriage,  but 
remained  where  Mrs.  Seymour  left  her,  her  face 
pressed  against  a  cushion,  and  her  bright  hair  fall- 
ing about  her  like  a  halo,  —  that  hair  upon  which 
her  aunt's  tears  had  glistened  like  diamonds. 

Suddenly  the  rattle  of  carriage  wheels  awoke  her 
to  the  conviction  that  her  aunt  was  really  gone. 
With  a  cry  like  that  of  some  wounded  creature  she 
sprang  to  her  feet,  and  rushed  out  of  the  house. 

"  Dey  's  done  gone  out  o'  sight,  Missy  Hazel," 
said  the  hostler,  as  she  breathlessly  reached  the 
big  gate,  and  questioned  -him  in  choking  tones. 
"  Dey 's  done  been  gone  fibe  minutes.  Dey 's  done 
gone  out  o'  sight,  honey,"  he  repeated  with  genuine 
feeling,  as  he  regarded  the  grief-stained  face,  in  its 
frame  of  tangled  hair. 

Hazel  scarce  waited  to  catch  his  words,  but  sped 
fleet-footed  through  the  orchard,  towards  an  open- 
ing in  the  hedge,  which  commanded  a  glimpse  of 
the  road  over  which  the  vehicle  must  pass.  As 
she  reached  the  spot,  the  fast-flying  horses  came 
for  an  instant  into  sight,  and  then  were  hidden  by 
a  cloud  of  dust. 

"  Aunty,  aunty,  come  back  to  me  !  "  wailed  her 
isolated  heart.  "  It  is  cruel  of  you  to  go  out  of 
my  life,  when  I  love  you  so !  It  is  cruel  of  you  to 
leave  me  so  utterly  alone.  Oh  Aunt  Lydia,  come 


192  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

back  to  me !  Come  back,  COME  BACK  !  "  She 
fell  down  on  the  soft  grass,  crying  wretchedly. 

Arline  was  away  on  her  vacation ;  and  so  Hazel 
could  not  go  to  the  kindly  Frenchwoman,  and  be 
comforted  by  her  sympathetic  words.  She  could 
only  go  back  to  the  desolate  house,  and  bury  her- 
self in  her  own  little  room,  weeping  her  heart 
sorer  than  it  was  already.  Even  Bijou  had 
deserted  her. 

Suddenly  it  flashed  upon  Hazel  that  she  had  not 
seen  her  dog  for  two  days.  With  this  thought  she 
hurriedly  pressed  back  the  tears  with  her  wet 
handkerchief  :  "  What  has  become  of  my  dear 
old  friend?"  she  cried  aloud.  The  next  moment 
she  was  bounding  away  to  the  kitchen,  where  she 
asked  breathlessly,  of  Aunt  Sarah  the  cook : 
"'Black  Mammy,  what  has  become  of  Bijou?  I 
have  n't  seen  him  for  two  whole  days." 

"  Fore  de  Lawd,  honey  chile,  now 's  ye  ax  Brack 
Mammy  'bout  dat  ar  dog,  I  reckons  I  has  ter 
tell  ye  as  how  he  eenamos'  kill  hisse'f  Sabbaday 
ebenin',"  replied  the  negress,  pausing  to  roll  some 
flaky  dough  from  her  hands. 

"  Bijou  hurt !  Plow  ?  Oh  Black  Mammy,  how 
did  it  happen  ?  "  cried  the  girl,  as  she  clutched  old 
Sarah's  dress  excitedly. 

The  woman  rolled  the  whites  of  her  eyes  about 
in  a  startling  manner,  and  said  evasively  :  "  Run 
out  to  de  stable,  honey,  'n  ax  Nole  'bout  de  facks. 
He  done  'tendin'  de  dog  out  dar,  'long  wid  de 


A  FRIEND  IN  NEED.  193 

bosses.  Nole  am  a  right  down  good-soul  brack 
un,  'n  aint  a  gwine  to  let  anythin'  suffah  wat 
'longed  to  Marsa  Wel'on.  Sho  's  ye  bawn,  honey 
chile,  ole  marsa  set  heaps  o'  conf'rence  on  my 
Nole ;  'n  now  marsa  's  gone,  seems  he  'specks  dat 
conf'rence  heaps.  Yes  he  do,  chile,  sho  !  " 

Filled  with  solicitude  for  her  noble  Saint 
Bernard,  Hazel  hastened  to  the  barnyard.  In  her 
precipitation  she  almost  stumbled  over  Noel,  who 
was  mending  a  halter  near  the  gate. 

"  I  came  to  see  Bijou,  Noel.  Black  Mammy  says 
my  poor  dog  is  hurt.  Where  is  he  ?  How  did  he 
come  to  be  hurt  ?  " 

"  I  done  'structed  mammy  ter  keep  mum  'bout 
dat  yah  dog,"  returned  the  hostler,  as  he  looked 
angrily  up  from  his  work ;  but  when  his  eyes  fell 
upon  Hazel's  sad  face,  he  added  more  gently, 
doffing  his  cap  deferentially :  "  Ye  sees,  Missy 
Hazel,  I  done  tole  mammy,  'n  all  de  culled  folks  at 
de  house,  not  ter  say  as  how  Bijou 's  hurt,  case  I 
knowed  you'd  take  it  bad  like." 

"  Is  he  wounded  ?  Is  he  suffering  much  ?  Oh 
Noel,  will  he  die  ?  "  cried  the  girl,  and  she  covered 
her  face  with  both  hands,  and  wept  anew  at  the 
very  thought  of  losing  her  boon  companion,  her 
one  remaining  friend. 

Just  then  a  prolonged  whine  came  to  her  from 
the  loft ;  and  before  Noel  could  prevent,  she  was 
bounding  up  the  crazy  stairs.  The  hostler  fol- 
lowed, but  paused  on  the  topmost  step,  delighted 


194  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

at  the  picture  that  met  his  gaze.  Hazel  had 
thrown  herself  on  her  knees  beside  her  dog,  and 
was  talking  to  him  in  terms  of  endearment,  such 
as  a  mother  might  use  to  her  child,  while  she 
received  his  frantic  kisses  upon  her  hands,  her 
face,  her  hair. 

"Bress  my  soul,  Missy  Hazel,  dat  dog  am  de 
biggest  possum  out ! "  Noel  shouted.  After  a 
convulsion  of  laughter  he  added  :  "  He  done  lay 
like  stone-dead  all  dis  bressed  day,  'n  I  could  n't 
'suade  him  ter  budge  or  t'  eat  a  mou'ful.  — 
Wait ! " 

Noel  was  off  like  a  shot,  but  returned  speedily, 
with  a  piece  of  cooked  meat.  "  HoP  out  dis  t'  him, 
Missy  Hazel.  Ye  see  will  he  take  it  out  you 
han'." 

Hazel  took  the  meat ;  and  her  whole  face  beamed 
when  the  dog  seized  and  swallowed  it  hungrily, 
and  then  begged  for  more.  Louder  and  louder 
became  the  negro's  merriment,  but  he  ceased 
laughing  as  his  companion  said:  "You  see 
what  a  successful  nurse  I  am,  Noel.  I  shall  come 
every  day  to  attend  my  poor  dog.  Now  tell  me 
how  he  came  to  be  sick.  I  see  no  wound  about 
him." 

"Well,  yer  sees,  little  missy,  'twas  like  dis," 
replied  the  hostler,  as  he  perched  himself  on  a  bale 
of  hay  near  by,  and  swung  his  feet  awkwardly. 
"Fo'  de  las'  two  weeks,  Bijou,  he  come  in  de 
barnyard  ebery  day  shiverin',  —  cole  and  wet  as 


A  FRIEND  IN  NEED.  195 

sop.  Well,  one  day  I  says  to  myse'f,  '  Now,'  says 
I,  '  it 's  bad  business,  dat  dog  gwine  in  de  watah  so 
much,  'n  de  wedah  comin'  on  so  termendeous  cole. 
It's  bad  business,'  says  I.  'De  rumatiz '11  settle 
in  his  bones,  sho.'  Well,  t'  other  ebenin',  's  I  's 
comin'  home  from  de  ma'sh,  whah  I  'd  ben  shootin' 
teal,  as  I 's  comin'  along  side  de  lake,  I  heah  a  loud 
yulp.  Now,  wen  I  heah  dat  yulp,  I  says  t'  myse'f^ 
1  Now,'  says  I,  *  dat  fool  dog  am  in  de  watah  agin, 
an'  can  't  git  out.'  Well,  den  I  runs  like  desperit 
fro'  dem  willows,  an'  'long  side  de  lake,  till  I  come 
in  sight  ob  dat  dog ;  'un  jis  as  I  specked,  dah  he 
wuz  in  de  watah,  tangled  up  in  a  lot  o'  lily  roots. 
Well,  I  offn  wid  my  close,  'n  I  jumps  in  dat  lake. 
Phoo-o-o-o  !  It  makes  my  brood  freeze  now  ter 
t'ink  how  like  ice  dat  watah  wuz !  Wall,  I  cuts  de 
tough  roots  from  bout  his  feet  'n  neck,  un  brung 
him  out  plum  friz  stiff,  poo'  fellah  !  I  toted  him 
home  on  my  back,  un  he  's  done  been  sick  ebber 
sence.  The  rheumatiz  settled  in  his  bones,  jis 
'zactly  as  I  profthesied." 

As  Noel  concluded  his  story  Hazel  sprang  to 
her  feet ;  and  the  next  instant  she  was  beside 
him,  with  one  of  his  rough  hands  pressed  to  her 
lips.  "  Oh  Noel,"  cried  she,  "  how  can  I  ever 
compensate  you  ?  You  saved  my  dear  Bijou  from 
drowning !  " 

"  I  mought  a'  sabed  de  dog,  missy ;  but  I  do  n't 
want  no  pay,  I  do  n't  want  no  copesate  for  doin'  a 
good  turn  for  you.  I  'd  risk  my  brack  neck  to 


196  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

serbe  you,  Missy  Hazel,  —  jes  shuah's  yer  bawn,  I 
would ;  "  and  the  negro's  black  orbs  beamed  with 
pleasure  at  this  demonstration  of  gratitude  from 
Hazel,  who  presently  said :  "  I  can  not  imagine 
why  Bijou  should  persist  in  his  mad  plunges.  He 
has  always  hated  the  water  in  cold  weather ;  but 
he  will  recover,  of  course  he  will  recover  ? "  she 
added,  looking  at  Noel  with  troubled  questioning 
in  her  aspect. 

Noel's  hopes  in  this  direction  having  revived 
since  she  showed  her  wonderful  influence  over  the 
dog,  he  replied,  as  he  flung  himself  nimbly  from 
his  elevated  seat  on  the  hay :  "  Dat  he  will, 
missy,  or  dis  coon 's  done  missed  his  reck'non." 

"  And  I  shall  come  every  day  to  attend  you,  my 
darling,"  said  Hazel,  her  face  all  aglow,  as  she 
stooped  to  arrange  Bijou's  pallet,  and  bestow 
upon  him  a  parting  pat ;  but  she  was  compelled  to 
muffle  her  ears  against  his  piteous  whine,  as  she 
descended  from  the  loft. 

As  she  closed  the  gate,  an  uncontrollable  desire 
came  over  her  to  see  the  place  where  her  pet  had 
nearly  lost  his  life ;  so  she  went  back  to  question 
Noel  as  to  the  exact  spot,  and  then  ran  down  to 
the  lake. 

She  had  no  difficulty  in  recognizing  the  tuft  of 
lilypads  wherewith  Bijou  had  been  entangled,  for 
they  still  floated  on  the  bosom  of  the  waters,  a 
wreck  of  former  beauty.  The  pink  and  white 
leaves  had  floated  away,  but  she  could  see  the 


A  FRIEND  IN  NEED.  197 

disturbed  roots  and  broken  stems;  though  little 
she  dreamed  that  under  the  dark  water,  and  re- 
moved from  human  sight,  lay  a  bundle  of  clothes 
marked  Myrine,  which  Evelyn  Weldon  had  thrown 
into  the  pool  two  weeks  before. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

PARTING  WAYS. 

HOPE  tells  a  flattering  tale, 

Delusive,  vain,  and  hollow ; 
Ah,  let  not  hope  prevail, 

Lest  disappointment  follow.    WBOTHEE. 

NEVER  did  time  drag  so  wearily  as  during  the 
next  few  weeks  at  Weldon  Grange.  Day 
after  day  found  Evelyn  at  the  library  window, 
some  open  book  lying  idly  in  her  lap.  The  pages 
she  seldom  turned,  but  suffered  her  glance  to  dwell 
listlessly  on  the  clear  autumnal  landscape,  or  rest 
now  and  then  upon  the  variegated  foliage  of 
magnolias  and  poplars. 

In  some  remote  corner  of  the  same  apartment 
Hazel  was  usually  sitting,  employed  with  light 
needlework  or  French  lessons,  in  which  she  wished 
to  be  prepared  against  Arline's  near  return. 

It  was  a  dull  October  afternoon.  A  bright  fire 
blazed  on  the  hearth,  and  the  room  was  filled  with 
the  odor  of  the  wood.  Yellow  chrysanthemums, 
mingled  with  fine  sprays  of  princess-pine,  were 
tastefully  arranged  in  the  Dresden  vases  on  the 
shelf,  and  gave  cheerfulness  to  the  room. 

The  pendulum  swung  lazily  to  and  fro  in  the 
solid  cathedral  clock,  and  its  monotonous  tick-tack 
(198) 


PARTING    WAYS.  199 

was  the  only  sound  intruding*  upon  the  silence 
which  for  hours  had  reigned  there,  and  almost 
made  the  Parian  busts  of  Shakespeare,  Byron,  and 
Dickens  frown  morosely  from  their  gilded  pedestals. 
In  the  fitful  firelight  they  fairly  blinked,  and 
imagination  could  fancy  that  they  even  lifted  up 
their  heads  and  did  address  themselves  to  motion, 
like  as  they  would  speak,  after  the  manner  of  the 
Ghost  in  Hamlet. 

Evelyn  sat  in  her  accustomed  place,  in  the  deep 
embrasure  of  the  window,  and  today  a  piece  of 
embroidery  lay  neglected  in  her  lap.  She  and 
Hazel,  who  poured  intently  over  her  French, 
might  have  been  total  strangers  to  each  other, 
so  far  as  was  indicated  by  conversation.  One 
may  see  people  from  opposite  ends  of  the  world 
sit  together  for  hours  in  a  public  parlor  without 
exchanging  a  word,  yet  there  are  glances  of 
human  interest  now  and  \then  between  them  ;  but 
here  was  not  a  word  or  glance  in  unison. 

Hazel  occasionally  glanced  wistfully  at  the  frigid 
woman  sitting  by  the  window,  whose  impassive  face 
was  always  turned  away,  as  Hazel  supposed,  but 
was  often  turned  full  upon  the  girl  when  Hazel 
was  not  looking ;  and  those  eyes  were  •  cruelly 
cold,  expressing  the  thoughts  of  Evelyn's  soul,  — - 
thoughts  which  would  have  affrighted  Hazel's 
gentle  spirit,  could  she  have  interpreted  them 
aright. 

Seeing  the  younger  girl  in  deep  mourning,  with 


200  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

all  her  golden  hah*  drawn  into  a  loose  coil  in  her 
neck,  and  her  eyes  so  pensive, '$ne  would  scarcely 
have  recognized  her  as  the  gay  butterfly-chaser 
of  a  half-year  ago.  She  was  not  the  same  Hazel. 
Her  mouth,  then  like  a  bud,  bursting  into  dimples, 
had  now  settled  into  grave  thoughtfulness.  Though 
the  smile  lingered,  it  was  restrained,  while  the 
dimples  merely  dinted  the  cheeks,  being  too  shy 
to  venture  deeper. 

The  vivacious  child,  with  little  thought  beyond 
Bijou  and  the  birds,  had  been  transformed  into 
the  premature  woman,  as  a  strong  blast,  sweeping 
through  the  garden,  will  suddenly  hasten  a  half- 
open  bud  into  untimely  maturity ;  but  the  change 
had  added  to  Hazel's  charms.  With  sunny  smiles 
and  dimples,  rosy  cheeks  and  changeful  eyes,  she 
had  been  winsome  ;  but  now,  with  her  shell-like 
complexion,  thoughtful  lips,  and  lustrous  eyes, 
revealing  a  soul's  subtle  sorrow,  Hazel  was  doubly 
attractive. 

At  length  her  lessons  were  learned.  She  closed 
her  book,  and  arose  to  get  her  needlework,  when 
Evelyn  called  imperatively :  "  Hazel,  come  here ! 
Bring  your  book  with  you  !  " 

The  younger  girl  crossed  the  floor  obediently. 
The  thought  of  a  few  words  with  Evelyn,  a  thing 
of  rare  occurrence  between  them,  made  her  heart 
leap  with  gladness.  Was  this  the  harbinger  of 
reconciliation  between  them  ?  The  very  thought 
caused  a  joyous  flush,  and  she  trembled  visibly, 


PARTING    WAYS.  201 

with  hopeful  anticipation,  as  she  stood  before  her 
foster-sister. 

Poor,  craving  heart !  How  cruel  to  rouse  such 
futile  hopes!  Mute  and  wondering  she  suffered 
Evelyn  to  take  the  volume  from  her  hand,  and 
then  watched  the  dark  face  eagerly,  as  Evelyn 
rustled  the  leaves  with  her  jewelled  fingers.  So 
intent  was  Hazel  on  her  happy  reflections,  that  she 
started  like  a  frightened  doe  when  Evelyn  sud- 
denly closed  the  book  with  an  emphatic  snap. 

Raising  her  head,  in  her  old  arrogant  fashion, 
the  elder  cousin  said  k "  Why  have  you  confined 
yourself  exclusively  to  French  this  vacation  ?  Are 
you  so  proficient  in  your  other  studies?" 

The  rebuke  in  her  tone  turned  Hazel's  short- 
lived hope  into  despair,  and  bore  down  her  heart 
like  lead. 

"  No,  I  am  not,  Evelyn  ;  but  Arline  says  my 
French  accent  is  defective,  and  she  told  me  to 
apply  myself  particularly  to  this  study  during  her 
absence ;  but  I  have  not  obeyed  her  till  recently. 
I  thought  —  " 

"  No  doubt  you  have  thought  much  of  perfecting 
yourself  in  this  particular  language  !  It  is  most 
fascinating.  To  appear  really  attractive  to  French 
people  one  should  be  able  to  converse  fluently  in 
their  own  tongue,"  interrupted  Evelyn  ironically ; 
and  she  supplemented  her  words  with  a  laugh 
which  corresponded  well  with  their  metallic  ring. 

Hazel  met  her  cousin's  searching  glance  steadily. 


202  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

She  had  not  detected  the  hidden  meaning  of  the 
words,  though  the  unfeeling  laugh  seemed  out  of 
place,  and  wounded  her  to  the  quick.  Those 
'•penetrating  eyes  seemed  to  burn  into  her  childlike 
soul.  Tears  gathered  in  her  gentle  eyes,  and  her 
lips  twitched  painfully  as  she  faltered :  "  You  are 
mocking  me,  Evelyn  ! " 

Another  peal  of  hollow  laughter  broke  from  the 
darkling  face.  "  Mocking  you,  indeed !  "  Evelyn 
returned,  when  her  mirth  had  spent  itself.  "  Am 
I  far  out  of  the  way,  when  I  say  that,  to  appear 
doubly  fascinating  in  the  eyes  of  a  French  admirer, 
one  must  be  qualified  to  speak  his  native  tongue  ?  " 

"  But  why  do  you  look  at  me  so,  Evelyn  ?  Your 
eyes  frighten  me  !  " 

"  Actress  !  With  what  bewitching  art  you  sus- 
tain your  part !  Now  hear  me,  Hazel  Verne  ! 
You  can't  mislead  me  by  your  crocodile  tears 
and  affected  innocence.  I  understand  you.  I  see 
through  your  mask !  " 

From  the  speaker's  eyes  gleamed  a  look  so  terri- 
ble as  to  cause  the  listener  to  draw  back  a  step ; 
for  it  was  the  lurid  fire  of  jealousy,  excited  nearly 
to  madness,  which  Hazel  saw  and  felt,  but  was 
unable  to  understand. 

Involuntarily  she  retreated  further  from  the 
panting  creature.  "I  —  I  do  n't  understand  you  ! 
I  an  actress?  I  wear  a  mask?"  gasped  the  child. 

"  Yes,  an  actress,  —  of  the  most  cowardly  type  ! ' 
hissed  her  cousin. 


PARTING    WAYS.  203 

All  at  once  an  idea  flashed  across  Hazel's  dizzy 
brain.  Surely  Evelyn  was  delirious!  She  had 
worried  herself  too  much,  and  this  was  the  result. 
With  this  thought  Hazel  impulsively  stepped  for- 
ward, and  laid  an  entreating  hand  upon  the  arm 
of  her  foster-sister. 

"Evelyn,  dear,  I  fear  you  aren't  quite  well 
today,"  she  said,  trying  to  assume  a  tone  of  quiet 
reasoning.  "  Let  me  help  you  to  your  room, 
where  you  can  lie  down  and  be  made  comfortable. 
I  will  be  such  a  patient  nurse,  if  you  will  only  let 
me.  Come ! " 

Evelyn's  lips  curled  in  scorn,  but  the  light  died 
out  of  her  eyes ;  and  her  old  hauteur  returned,  as 
she  leaned  back  in  her  chair,  agitated  still,  but 
otherwise  outwardly  calm.  Perhaps  it  was  more 
than  hatred  which  made  her  shrink  from  Hazel's 
caress. 

"  Reassure  yourself,  please  !  I  am  quite  well !  " 
she  vouchsafed  to  say.  "  As  for  nursing  me,  I  do 
not  want  you.  I  could  n't  bring  myself  to  tolerate 
a  show  of  affection  from  one  who  has  doomed  me 
to  despair.  Our  ways  must  lie  apart ;  but  bear  in 
mind  that  you  are  entirely  subject  to  my  will  until 
you  come  of  age.  After  that  you  will  be  at  liberty 
to  choose  your  own  way.  Your  future  is  well  pro- 
vided for  by  my  father,  and  you  can  make  it  what 
you  choose." 

Keen  surprise  dried  the  tears  from  Hazel's  eyes. 
She  breathed  intermittently,  and  she  fluttered  like 


204  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

a  wounded  dove,  as  she  faltered  :  "  I  did  not  quite 
understand  what  you  were  saying,  Evelyn.  Do 
you  mean  that  I  have  spoiled  your  life,  —  that  I 
have  caused  you  misery  ?  Oh  Evelyn,  you  could  n't 
mean  anything  so  untrue  ?  " 

"  I  mean  just  that !  But  for  you  I  should  be 
the  happiest  woman  living !  Perhaps  —  oh  God  ! 
who  knows  ?  —  I  might  be  one  of  the  best !  As  it 
is,  —  I  am  steeped  in  wretchedness." 

"  Won't  you  tell  me  what  I  have  done  ?  Once 
before  you  accused  me  of  wrecking  your  life. 
Your  words  have  tormented  me  ever  since.  I 
could  not  understand  them.  Sometimes  I  think 
you  despise  me  for  living  here.  If  so,  Evelyn,  I 
will  go  away.  Aunt  Lydia  loves  me,  —  Aunt 
Lydia  and  Myrtle.  I  could  go  to  them.  Oh 
Evelyn,  let  me  go  to  them,  and  then  we  shall  both 
be  happier !  " 

"  You  shall  never  go  to  New  Orleans  !  "  was  the 
answer  to  this  beseeching  cry;  and  the  speaker's 
face  was  like  stone,  while  she  clinched  her  hands 
in  her  lap,  to  repress  the  demon  which  threatened 
her  with  another  mad  paroxysm.  "I  will  bury 
you  in  a  convent  first !  " 

A  stifled  sob  fell  from  Hazel  at  this  threat,  —  a 
sob  from  a  broken  heart, — and  she  quitted  the 
room. 

As  the  gray  twilight  stole  into  her  pretty  bed- 
room it  found  Hazel  seated  at  the  window,  her 
aching  head  bowed  on  the  ledge,  weeping  as  only 
the  wronged  can  weep. 


PARTING   WAYS.  205 

"What  have  I  ever  done  to  warrant  such  unkind 
feelings  ?  Oh  that  cruel  accusation  !  What  did 
she  mean?" 

JJazel  carefully  reviewed  the  past  four  years  of 
her  life,  wherein  she  had  tried  so  untiringly  to  win 
some  generous  feeling  from  her  proud  foster-sister, 
in  return  for  which  Hazel  would  so  freely  have 
lavished  her  own  heart's  warmest  love ;  but  how 
completely  had  she  failed !  To  what  a  hopeless 
height  the  barriers  now  towered  between  herself 
and  Evelyn  ! 

When  Hazel  lifted  her  head  from  the  window- 
ledge  the  evening  had  become  so  beautiful  as  to 
make  her  wonder  if  she  had  not  been  asleep,  with 
a  horrible  dream.  Away  off  in  the  east  a  broad 
halo  of  light  heralded  the  moonlight,  and  the 
azure  vault  was  ablaze  with  "  the  forget-me-nots 
of  the  angels."  Through  the  wall  of  cypress  and 
willow,  at  the  southern  extremity  of  the  orchard, 
she  could  see  the  lake,  glimmeringly  reflecting  the 
glory  of  God's  firmament  in  its  mirrored  depths. 

Suddenly  fair  Cynthia  showed  her  red-barred 
face  over  the  distant  hilltops  ;  and  simultaneously, 
as  if  that  glorious  satellite  had  brought  a  message 
direct  from  the  land  of  mystery,  Monsieur  Aubrey's 
last  words  came  swiftly  back :  "  If  the  time  should 
come  when  you  may  need  a  friend,  then  will  you 
turn  to  me  as  to  one  who  would  serve  you  at  the 
peril  of  his  own  life  ?  " 

Oh  if  she  could  but  see  him  now,  this  moment, 


206  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

and  ask  him  to  explain  Evelyn's  cruel  words.  She 
wondered  if  he  knew  what  they  had  suffered  at  the 
Grange  since  his  visit.  She  wondered  if  he  would 
come  to  her,  if  he  knew  how  much  v  she  stood  in 
need  of  a  true  friend ! 

The  night  promised  to  be  as  bright  as  day.  As 
our  child-heroine  continued  at  the  window  she 
thought  of  the  dear  ones  departed,  and  an  unut- 
terable longing  came  over  her  to  go  to  their  graves 
and  pray.  Perhaps  there  she  could  find  some 
comfort  in  her  unhappiness.  "  Yes,"  she  thought, 
"I  will  go  to  Cypress  Dell !  No  harm  will  come 
of  it !  It  will  be  bright  as  day,  and  I  shall  fear 
nothing."  . 

She  was  aroused  from  her  revery  by  the  entrance 
of  Mrs.  Ormsby,  who  was  bringing  her  a  tray  of 
tea  and  toast.  "  I  bring  you  a  light  supper,  dear 
Miss  Hazel,"  said  the  kind  Creole.  "  You  did  not 
appear  at  table,  and  I  feared  you  were  not  well. 
All  in  the  dark  ?  Well,  well !  This  won't  do,  my 
child.  I  will  strike  a  light." 

Hazel  protested  gently  against  this  proposal. 
"Please  let  me  remain  here  at  the  window,  Mrs. 
Ormsby.  I  shall  enjoy  my  tea  better  with  only 
the  moonlight.  Thanks  !  You  are  very  kind  !  " 
She  received  the  tray  with  averted  face,  lest  her 
condition  should  reveal  itself  to  this  new  friend. 

"  Is  there  anything  else  I  can  do  for  you  ?  I 
would  gladly  help  you,  dear  Miss  Hazel,"  said 
the  companion,  as  she  was  about  to  withdraw. 


PARTING    WAYS.  207 

Motherly  instinct  had  from  the  first  drawn  her  to 
this  sad-faced  orphan.  She  knew,  from  the  tremor 
in  Hazel's  voice,  that  she  had  been  weeping,  and 
longed  to  draw  the  girl  to  her  sympathizing  heart ; 
but  she  went  out,  and  closed  the  door  softly  behind 
her,  as  Hazel  said  :  "  There  is  nothing,  thank  you, 
but  you  are  very  kind  !  " 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

AVE     MARIA. 

How  shall  I  bring  the  sunshine  to  thy  face, 
And  dry  thy  tears,  in  bitter  woe  s  despite  ?  — 
Love,  my  love,  teaches  me  a  certain  way. 

ALL,  THE  YEAR  ROUND. 

IT  was  past  ten  when  Hazel,  warmly  clad  for 
her  solitary  walk  to  the  Dell,  left  the  house. 
As  she  passed  through  the  large  gate,  opening 
from  the  town  road  into  the  one  leading  to  the 
cemetery,  she  did  not  notice  a  saddled  horse, 
hitched  within  the  shadow  of  a  wide-spreading 
poplar,  a  few  yards  away.  She  walked  along 
beneath  the  arching  pines,  the  soft  moonbeams 
glinting  through,  rendering  her  pathway  bright 
before  her,  and  constituting  a  silver  background 
for  the  embossed  patterns  of  fern  and  late  wild- 
flowers,  which  bestrewed  the  place. 

Once,  as  she  entered  the  shadow  of  a  gigantic 
pine,  the  screech  of  a  bird  made  her  pause ;  but  as 
she  perceived  the  gray-feathered  creature,  perched 
on  a  low-protruding  branch,  a  few  yards  off,  and 
staring  at  her  with  eyes  which  looked  as  large  as 
saucers  in  the  moonlight,  she  waved  her  hand 
toward  him,  softly  saying  :  "  Pretty  owl,  I  would 
not  harm  you  !  " 

(208) 


A  VE  MARIA.  209 

Then  she  resumed  her  walk,  as  fearless  as  be- 
fore, some  of  her  recent  unhappiness  absorbed  in 
the  peerless  beauty  of  the  night. 

A  few  field  daisies  still  grew  by  the  wayside. 
These  she  gathered,  to  mingle  with  some  fresh 
chrysanthemums  she  had  plucked  from  the  garden, 
—  a  tribute  to  the  dead.  She  had  stooped  to  cull 
a  knot  of  maidenhair,  to  complete  her  bouquet, 
when  a  sudden  burst  of  melody  wakened  the  still 
night,  like  a  chord  from  floating  seraphim. 

Hazel  stood  transfixed.  Her  face  was  upturned 
to  the  moonlight,  her  lips  were  parted,  her  hands 
were  clasped  in  rapture,  as  she  turned  her  ear  to 
catch  the  dying  cadence  of  that  heavenly  strain. 

Ave  Maria,  now  we  implore  thee ! 
Show  us  thy  favor,  grant  us  thy  blessing! 
Amen,  Amen ! 

Like  a  zephyr  the  last  note  died  away ;  yet  to 
Hazel  the  air  still  vibrated  with  the  penetration  of 
that  voice.  Ave  Maria!  Ave  Maria!  Every- 
where the  holy  name  seemed  floating.  It  filled 
the  night.  It  moved  her  as  nothing  before  had 
done.  Whose  throat  had  sent  forth  such  music,  — 
and  at  such  an  hour,  in  such  a  place  ? 

Surely  it  sounded  like  Deverell's  singing.  She 
had  heard  the  same  voice  often  in  her  dreams 
since  he  went  away,  but  it  always  sounded  far-off. 
Now  it  was  near  and  real. 

"  Yes !  It  sounded  as  though  he  were  very 
near  me,  —  very  near,"  she  repeated  to  herself. 


210  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

"  I  think  I  am  half  afraid,  —  not  with  the 
fear  of  something  awful,  but  with  fear  which  tells 
my  heart  to  be  glad.  I  think  I  will  not  go  on  to 
the  graves.  I  will  return  to  the  house." 

With  an  effort  she  retraced  a  few  steps ;  but 
presently  she  paused  again. 

"  Perhaps  I  am  foolishly  nervous,"  she  told  her- 
self. "It  might,  after  all,  be  only  imagination. 
I  have  been  thinking  much  of  him  tonight,  and 
fancy  may  have  brought  back  his  voice,  singing 
Ave  Maria.  It  would  be  foolish  to  go  home,  now 
I  am  more  than  halfway  to  the  Dell.  Of  course 
it  was  fancy,  for  he  is  far  away,  —  perhaps  on  the 
other  side  of  the  Rocky  Mountains." 

Thus  reassured  she  again  turned  her  face  toward 
the  burying-ground ;  yet  she  involuntarily  quick- 
ened her  steps,  until  her  little  feet  almost  flew 
over  the  white  road.  Not  until  she  had  passed 
through  the  wicket  did  she  pause  to  breathe. 

As  she  neared  the  stone  which  marked  the 
resting-place  of  a  certain  Weldon  ancestor,  who 
had  lain  in  Cypress  Dell  for  over  a  century, 
another  owl  —  perched  on  the  head  of  a  marble 
cherub,  and  beguiling  the  night  with  his  weird 
foo-whoo  —  scurried  away  to  another  refuge,  in 
the  branches  of  the  cypress  which  shaded  the 
double  grave  Hazel  was  seeking.  She  watched 
him  alight  there,  and  then  inadvertently  glanced 
beneath  the  shadow  of  the  tree  ;  but  she  recoiled 
instantly,  with  a  low  cry,  for  on  a  rustic  bench, 


A  VE  MARIA.  211 

near  the  grave,  she  saw  a  man  reclining,  his  eyes 
intent  upon  the  monumental  inscription. 

Hearing  the  girl's  cry  he  leaped  to  his  feet,  and 
the  moonbeams  revealed  the  features  of  Monsieur 
Aubrey. 

This  sudden  apparition  caused  her  to  reel  like  a 
wind-tossed  flower.  She  would  have  fallen,  had 
not  strong  arms  encircled  her.  "  Hazel,  my  little 
love !  "  She  heard  this  passionate  cry  faintly,  as 
in  a  dream. 

A  moment's  silence  ensued.  Hazel  did  not 
speak,  because  she  lacked  strength ;  but  she  lay 
trembling,  with  her  head  on  Aubrey's  bosom.  He 
did  not  speak,  because  joy  and  amazement  con- 
tended within  him  for  the  mastery.  His  lips 
sought  hers,  but  were  instantly  withdrawn,  at  the 
dictation  of  a  sense  of  honor.  However,  he  pressed 
her  to  his  heart,  and  stroked  her  hair. 

As  Hazel's  strength  returned  she  realized  vaguely 
what  had  happened,  and  struggled  gently  in  the 
arms  which  held  her  so  firmly.  Then  Aubrey 
released  her,  and  led  her  to  the  seat  he  had 
vacated. 

Seating  himself  beside  her  he  took  her  fluttering 
hands,  pressed  them  reassuringly,  and  said:  "If 
you  feel  strong  enough  now,  little  one,  tell  me 
what  actuated  you  to  come  hither  at  this  strange 
hour." 

His  voice,  low-toned  and  earnest,  —  as  she  had 
heard  it  in  the  past,  —  thrilled  her.  "I  was  lonely, 


212  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

monsieur,"    she  faltered,  "and  the   night  was  so 
like  the  day  that  I  had  no  fear." 

"You  are  safer  than  ever  now,  child.  —  There, 
there,  do  not  weep !  "  entreated  he,  as  she  sobbed 
violently.  "  You  do  not  fear  me,  petite  ?"  he 
added  with  tender  reproach. 

"No,  no,  monsieur,  it  is  not  that.  —  I  have  no 
fear  of  you,"  she  said,  closing  her  fingers  over  his 
confidingly  and  almost  involuntarily.  "  You  must 
forgive  me  if  I  cry.  I  —  I  —  oh,  you  know  it  was 
so  sudden,  —  my  seeing  you  here,  —  and  —  every- 
thing! I  heard  you  singing  Ave  Maria,  but  I 
tried  to  believe  it  was  only  my  imagination.  I  am 
so  nervous.  It  seemed  more  like  an  angel  singing. 
Oh  monsieur,  I  am  so  glad  it  was  you,  —  yoijr  very 
self !  Were  you  singing  over  our  dear  graves  ?  " 

"  Yes !  The  place  seemed  sacredly  quiet,  and 
filled  me  with  reverence.  I  did  not  know  I  sang 
so  loud!" 

"You  didn't  sing  too  loud.  It  was  the  wind 
which  bore  your  voice  to  me.  It  was  sweet,  — 
and,  —  oh  monsieur,  I  can  not  express  it,  but  it 
sounded  like  a  strain  from  an  angel's  harp ! "  cried 
Hazel.  Then  she  added:  "I  prayed  tonight  for 
God  to  send  me  some  true  friend,  and  He  has 
answered  my  prayer.  You  are—  She  hesi- 
tated, and  Aubrey  saw  that  she  was  blushing. 

"What  is  it  my  little  Hazel  would  say?"  he 
asked,  lowering  his  handsome  face  until  it  almost 
touched  hers.  "  Tell  me,  my  sweet  one  !  "  he 


AVE  MARIA.  213 

added ;  and  in  his  ardor  he  crushed  her  little 
hand,  —  he  did  not  know  how  painfully. 

Hazel  answered  not.  Lower  and  lower  fell  her 
veiling  lashes;  though,  unknown  to  herself,  her 
eyes  were  full  of  undefined  love.  She  was  con- 
scious of  a  new  sensation,  but  this  she  could  not 
rightly  interpret.  She  did  not  know  the  meaning 
of  the  flush  in  her  cheek  and  the  fluttering  of  her 
heart.  She  did  not  know  why  the  pressure  of  his 
hand  should  move  her  so  much.  She  did  not 
know  why  an  unutterable  longing  possessed  her  to 
be  near  this  man  always,  —  to  feel  his  strength 
every  day,  to  hear  his  voice  saying,  "  My  sweet 
one  !  "  What  a  refuge  such  a  friend  would  be. 

At  length  Aubrey  spoke  again.  Mistaking  her 
silence  for  childish  timidity  he  said  gravely :  "  I 
too  have  been  praying,  Hazel.  I  prayed  that  you 
might  be  delivered  from  all  unhappiness.  I  believe 
this  meeting  was  preordained  of  Heaven !  You 
speak  as  if  suffering,  —  as  though  you  needed 
friends.  If  this  be  true,  then  surely  I  have  been 
guided  to  you  by  the  Supreme  Power.  Can  you 
doubt  it?" 

"  But  monsieur,  I  expected  to  see  you  least  of 
anybody,"  returned  the  girl,  without  looking  up. 
"  I  believed  you  to  be  in  California,  or  in  some 
place  far  West.  It  seems  like  dreaming  to  see 
you  here,  and  to  hear  your  voice.  Cousin  Evelyn 
will  be  much  surprised  when  she  learns  — 

"Mademoiselle  Weldon  must  not  know  of  our 


214  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

meeting,"  interrupted  the  lover  hastily.  —  "That 
is,  she  must  not  know  of  our  meeting  tonight." 

He  modulated  his  voice  to  almost  a  whisper  as 
he  continued  :  "  I  have  been  West.  The  news  of 
your  sad  loss  did  not  reach  me  until  I  had  been  in 
San  Francisco  a  fortnight,  as  I  did  not  read  the 
papers  regularly,  and  had  a  pleasant  travelling- 
companion  ;  but  one  day,  as  Hylton  and  I  were 
dining  at  a  French  restaurant,  I  happened  to  scan 
the  columns  of  a  New  Orleans  paper,  when  my 
eyes  fell  upon  a  notice  of  your,  —  of  Monsieur  and 
Madame  Weldon's  sudden  death.  Ah,  Mademoiselle 
Hazel,  I  shall  not  undertake  to  describe  my  great 
sorrow  and  surprise.  My  first  thought  was  of 
you,  little  one.  I  remembered  that  your  very 
best  friends  were  now  lying  here,  —  no  longer  able 
to  guard  you." 

"  Do  not  sob  so,  little  one !  Your  grief  hurts 
me ! "  This  he  added,  as  her  sighs  lent  a  sad 
accompaniment  to  his  voice. 

"  I  wondered  who  would  supply  their  place," 
he  resumed  when  she  had  grown  calmer.  * "  This 
thought  haunted  me.  I  longed  to  return  at  once ; 
but  my  friend  was  in  poor  health,  and  seemed  to 
grow  worse,  and  I  felt  in  duty  bound  to  stay 
longer  on  the  Pacific  Slope,  —  at  least  a  few 
weeks  longer.  I  went  from  place  to  place  with 
him,  like  one  in  a  maze.  My  thoughts  were  always 
with  you.  I  wondered,  hourly,  how  your  life  was 
getting  on,  whether  you  had  one  friend  to  shield 


AVE  MARIA.  215 

you  from  —  from  that  woman,  whom  I  knew  to  be 

—  not  your  friend,  yet  whom  you  would  be  with 
daily.     I  lay  awake,  night  after  night,  with  this 
one  thought.      I   could  picture  for  you  a  happy 
future  only  from   one   standpoint.      In   one  light 
only  would  yom-  life  present  itself  as  blessed  with 
love  and  tender  care.      In   all   other   lights  you 
seemed   to   frown  upon   me  from  a  fretwork   of 
sombreness,  —  oh  such   gloom.      This   framework 
was  so  unfit  for  a  gentle  nature  like   my  little 
friend's!" 

He  paused,  overcome  by  emotion.  Then  with 
one  hand  pressed  over  his  eyes,  the  other  still 
clasping  Hazel's  closely,  he  sat  awhile  without 
speaking. 

She  longed  to  speak  some  comforting  word,  but 
she  could  not  bring  herself  to  break  the  hushed 
stillness.  So  she  sat  quietly,  wondering  what 
might  be  the  one  bright  view  he  had  taken  of  her 
future.  To  her  it  seemed  as  if  she  had  left  joy 
and  sunshine  forever  in  the  beautiful  past  of  her 
childhood,  and  that  she  must  go  forth  with  an 
aching  heart  into  the  vista  of  years  to  come,  with 
a  hunger  which  threatened  to  endure  till  life's  end, 

—  hunger  for  love,  which,  to  a  warm  and  respon- 
sive nature  like  hers,  is  as  essential  as  air  to  the 
birds  or  sunlight  to  the  flowers. 

She  lost  herself  in  thoughts  of  those  happy  and 
careless  d:iys,  when  she  had  roamed  with  Bijou 
through  the  dells,  or  skimmed  the  lake  in  her  little 
boat,  in  quest  of  a  certain  pink  lily. 


216  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

Then  the  sound  of  Aubrey's  voice  interrupted 
the  retrospect :  "  I  have  no  right  to  describe  to  my 
little  friend  the  roseate  vision  in  which  I  saw  her 
life  as  it  should  be,  —  in  which  I  saw  it  gleaming 
in  felicity.  I  have  no  right,  Hazel;  yet  have  I 
travelled  thousands  of  miles  impelled  by  this  one 
purpose.  —  I  arrived  in  Jasper  this  evening.  Be- 
lieving it  would  be  useless  to  seek  communication 
with  you  before  tomorrow,  I  resolved,  as  the  night 
was  so  perfect,  to  ride  over  to  Cypress  Dell,  where 
I  could  at  least  be  near  those  who  had  been  so 
dear  to  you.  Little  did  I  think  this  very  spot  was 
our  Heaven-appointed  place  of  meeting ;  but  so  it 
has  proved.  —  I  wrote  a  note,  which  I  hoped  to 
convey  to  you  through  some  safe  medium.  I 
asked  you  to  appoint  a  place  where  I  could  see 
you  alone.  I  wished  our  meeting  unknown.  You 
are  fortunately  spared  this  clandestine  step,  which 
I  did  not  like  to  propose ;  and  now  I  must  beg  you 
to  listen  to  what  my  heart  aches  to  say,  here  in 
this  holy  field  of  the  dead.  Will  you  hear  and 
try  to  understand  me,  Hazel  darling  ?  " 

Hazel  felt  his  quick  breathing,  and  was  half- 
frightened  at  his  passionate  pressure  of  her  hand  ; 
yet  she  answered  quietly:  "I  am  listening,  mon- 
sieur. I  am  sure  I  can  understand  what  you  wish 
to  say,  for  you  speak  so  earnestly,  as  though  your 
heart  was  talking." 

She'  lifted  her  trustful  eyes,  but  they  quickly 
fell,  as  again  she  saw  the  ardor  in  his  expression. 


AVE  MARIA.  217 

"You  are  left  absolutely  alone  in  the  world," 
said  Aubrey  presently.  "  Your  —  Mademoiselle 
Evelyn  will  never  make  your  life  what  her  parents 
desired.  Ah,  little  one,  you  shiver,  —  because 
you  know  the  truth  !  Your  lives  would  be  better 
apart.  Yours  should  be  transplanted  beyond  the 
reach  of  her  blighting  presence.  A  delicate  flower 
can  not  survive  in  the  dank  shadows  of  a  cellar. 
A  lily  droops  and  dies,  when  bruised  by  ruthless 
hands." 

"  I  have  made  some  good  friends  since  aunt  and 
uncle  died,"  began  Hazel  as  the  Frenchman  paused, 
—  "  oh,  such  dear  friends !  They  are  Aunt  Lydia, 
Cousin  Myrtle,  and  Uncle  Seymour.  They  were 
here  at  the  funeral,  and  Aunt  Lydia  stayed  with 
us  nearly  two  months  afterward.  I  love  her  so! 
She  seems  like  an  own  dear  mother  to  me !  It 
was  like  tearing  a  piece  of  my  heart  out  when  she 
went  away.  Then  there  is  Myrtle !  I  could  n't 
begin  to  tell  you  how  we  love  each  other.  If  I 
could  be  with  her  always,  I  should  want  no  greater 
happiness;  but  of  course  that  can  never  be.  I 
must  always  go  on  living  here,  and  she  is  away 
over  the  Gulf." 

The  girl's  words  came  upon  Aubrey's  secret 
thoughts  like  a  bombshell.  For  a  moment  he  was 
hardly  master  of  himself,  and  his  next  sentence 
cost  him  an  inward  struggle.  "  Why  must  it  be 
thus?  Why  can  you  not  go  to  New  Orleans,  and 
live  with  those  you  love  ?  " 


218  THE    DEATH   TRUST. 

"  It  was  only  this  afternoon  that  I  begged 
Evelyn  to  grant  me  this  happiness ;  but  she  would 
not!  She  said  —  she  said  —  such  cruel  things  to 
me  !  —  I  wanted  to  die." 

"What  cruel  things?  Tell  me  what  mademoi- 
selle said  to  make  you  so  miserable ! "  rejoined 
Aubrey,  unconscious  of  the  strong  resentment  in 
his  tones. 

"  She  said  she  would  bury  me  in  a  convent, 
sooner  than  let  me  live  in  New  Orleans.  She 
looked  so  white  and  terrible  when  she  said  it! 
My  heart  stopped  beating  with  fear.  Then  she 
accused  me  of  something  so  dreadful !  She  sard 
I  had  doomed  her  to  a  life  of  despair !  Those 
words  will  always  stand  out  before  me,  they  were 
so  cruel ;  but  I  can  not  understand  them.  I  would 
die  sooner  than  bring  misery  to  anybody !  That 
is  why  I  begged  Evelyn  to  let  me  go  to  Aunt 
Lydia.  I  thought  I  had  made  her  hate  me  by 
living  at  the  Grange ;  for  ever  since  I  came  she 
has  repulsed  me.  I  am  sure  she  despises  me  for 
something  besides  my  coming  into  her  f am  —  " 

Here  Hazel  found  herself  suddenly  caught  and 
held  in  Aubrey's  arms,  as  by  a  vice. 

"My  darling,  my  pure  one,"  he  ejaculated,  "give 
me  the  right  to  protect  you  from  the  woman  who 
makes  you  suffer !  Take  my  name,  and  let  it  be 
a  safeguard  against  such  misery.  The  inhuman 
wickedness  of  this  world  makes  me  shudder  for 
your  innocence !  I  am  unworthy  to  receive  a 


AVE  MARIA.  219 

flower  so  guileless;  yet,  oh  Hazel,  I  love  you, 
darling!  I  have  loved  you  sinCe  that  evening  I 
found  you  crying  at  the  window,  wounded  by 
Evelyn's  sneers.  Even  before  that  I  believe  I 
loved  you,  —  yes,  from  the  very  first !  Only  trust 
me,  little  one, — that  is  enough!  I  am  satisfied 
with  taking  your  simple  confidence  in  exchange 
for  the  great  love  I  bear  you.  I  will  trust  to  the 
future  for  a  sweeter  reward.  Will  you  believe 
me,  Hazel  ?  Will  you  be  my  wife  ?  " 

"  Your  wife,  —  your  wife  f  "  faltered  the  white 
lips  so  near  his  own.  "  Why  —  I  —  I  —  Do  you 
wish  to  marry  me  ?  Do  you  wish  to  take  me  away 
from  the  Grange  ?  " 

"  I  would  take  you  to  my  own  beautiful  home 
on  the  Mississippi,"  said  Aubrey,  —  smiling,  despite 
himself,  at  the  young  girl's  guileless  surprise. 

"  Once  installed  at  Deverell  Hall  you  could  see 
your  aunt  every  day,  and  have  Myrtle  with  you 
constantly,  if  you  liked.  Then  I  should  always  be 
near  to  protect  you." 

"  But  a  wife !  It  seems  so  strange  to  think  of 
myself  as  a  wife,  when  I  am  scarcely  sixteen ! " 
and  Hazel  concluded  with  a  little  deprecatory 
laugh. 

She  seemed  to  be  lifted  from  the  ground,  and 
scarcely  breathed.  She  could  see  the  white  monu- 
ments and  the  dark  cypresses.  She  could  see  his 
love-lighted  face.  She  could  hear  his  soft  voice  ; 
but  it  was  as  if  she  saw  and  heard  in  a  vision. 


220  THH,  DEATH  TRUST. 

"  I  have  read  of  girls  in  the  Orient  being  wedded 
at  ten  and  twelve,"  he  was  saying ;  "  but  I  will 
not  urge  your  answer  tonight,  sweetheart.  Come 
to  me  tomorrow  night  at  eleven  o'clock,  down  by 
the  Jake  where  I  first  saw  you,  and  give  me  your 
answer  there.  Oh  my  little  love,  let  your  answer 
be  this,  I  ivill  be  your  wife.  The  next  day  I  will 
come  and  claim  you,  in  the  presence  of  Mademoi- 
selle Weldon,  as  my  promised  bride,  of  whom  no 
earthly  power  can  rob  me.  Will  you  promise  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  yet  understand  what  such  a  promise 
would   involve,   monsieur.      To   come   to   you   at 
that  hour  of  the  night  would  seem  treacherous,  — 
unjust  to  Evelyn.     It  would  be  deceit !  " 

"  I  promise  you  that  no  word  of  censure  shall 
fall  on  your  dear  head.  Come  to  me,  and  I  will 
face  the  results.  Not  for  worlds  must  you  allow  a 
syllable  to  escape  your  lips  as  to  what  has  passed 
between  us  tonight." 

A  few  happy  moments  followed,  after  which 
they  placed  Hazel's  forgotten  flowers  by  the 
graves.  Then,  at  her  request,  Aubrey  repeated 
the  low  sweet  measures,  as  they  both  knelt  there  : 

Ave  Maria,  now  we  implore  thee, 
Show  us  thy  favor,  grant  us  thy  blessing! 
Let  us  more  love  thee,  thy  love  possessing ! 
Guide  us,  protect  us,  we  are  thy  children. 
Amen,  Amen! 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 

FATE     GOETH    FIRST. 

How  canst  thou  tell  how  far  from  thee 
Fate  or  caprice  may  lead  his  steps, 

ere  that  tomorrow  comes  ? 
Men  have  been  known  lightly  to  turn 

the  corner  of  a  street ; 
And  days  have  grown  to  months, 
And  months  to  lagging  years,  ere  they 
Have  looked  in  loving  eyes  again. 

COVENTRY  PATMORE. 

HAZEL  slept  little  that  night.  How  could 
she  close  her  eyes  in  stolid  slumber,  with 
that  beautiful  picture  filling  the  darkness  of  her 
bedroom  ?  His  words  possessed  her  :  "  Take  my 
name,  and  let  it  be  a  safeguard  against  the  misery 
that  may  await  you.  Be  my  wife  !  " 

She  could  not  define  the  rapture  roused  by  this 
memory.  She  only  knew  that  she  was  unspeakably 
happy ;  and  she  regretted  when  morning  came,  lest 
it  should  bring  the  knowledge  that  she  had  only 
been  straying  in  delicious  dreamland. 

When   the  first  streak  of    sunlight    kissed  her 

pillow,  and  found  her  with  eyes  wide  open,  she 

was  convinced  that    all   was    dear   reality.       She 

could   yet   hear   that  fervent    voice.     Indeed,  the 

221 


222  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

thought  of  his  heart-throbs  almost  frightened  her, 
as  she  remembered  how  he  had  embraced  her 
within  his  manly  arms. 

"  It  was  not  a  dream ! "  she  whispered  with 
delirious  joy,  and  tucked  her  head  beneath  the 
coverlet,  as  if  to  hide  her  maidenly  blushes  from 
the  light.  "I  have  seen  him  —  my  king!  He 
knelt  by  the  graves,  there  in  the  beautiful  moon- 
light, and  sang  Ave  Maria.  I  have  promised  to 
meet  him  again  tonight,  — this  very  night." 

Hazel  arose ;  but,  before  dressing  herself,  she 
knelt  beside  her  little  bed,  and  prayed  long  and 
earnestly,  looking  like  some  suppliant  angel,  in 
her  snow-white  robe  ;  for  her  glorious  hair  was 
unbound,  and  rippled  almost  to  the  floor  in  waves 
of  golden  glory,  the  slanting  sunbeams  touching 
it  here  and  there,  causing  it  to  fairly  blaze.  She 
prayed  that  God  would  direct  her  mind  aright 
through  the  day,  and  prepare  her  heart  with  an 
answer  to  him  who  professed  to  love  her,  and 
wished  her  for  his  wife. 

Often  during  that  day  she  stole  away  to  her 
room,  to  reflect  for  a  moment,  —  to  ask  her  soul  if 
she  had  sinned  in  confiding  so  implicitly  in  Aubrey 
Deverell,  the  man  who  seemed  a  very  king  amongst 
men.  The  answer  was  always:  "No,  you  have 
not  sinned  in  trusting  completely  in  him."  Yet 
something  seemed  to  tell  her  that  she  could  have 
him  only  as  a  friend.  She  must  not  promise  what 
he  had  asked.  She  could  not  be  his  wife.  He 


FATE   GOETH  FIRST.  223 

could  only  be  her  friend,  —  her  very  dearest, 
noblest  friend. 

Then  would  come  to  her  a  vague  realization 
that  there  was  not  enough  in  friendship  to  satisfy 
her  heart,  upon  which  the  impression  of  a  sweeter 
word  had  now  been  stamped;  yet  she  would  go 
on  trying  to  accustom  herself  to  the  thought  that 
she  must  go  to  him  that  night,  and  say :  "  I  will 
continue  living  at  Weldon  Grange.  I  must  stay 
here  for  years,  perhaps,  —  trying,  as  I  have  done, 
to  win  my  cousin's  favor.  By-and-by,  perhaps 
in  four  or  five  years,  when  I  am  of  age,  I  shall  go 
out  into  the  world." 

The  words  were  dictated  by  her  conscience ;  but 
they  seemed  bitter  as  she  repeated  them,  even 
though  she  felt  them  to  be  the  outcome  of  truth 
and  honor.  She  would  not  shrink.  Integrity  had 
always  been  a  golden  word.  She  felt  that  to  steal 
away  in  the  dead  of  night,  to  pledge  herself  in 
betrothal  to  this  man,  would  be  hateful  and  low, 
and  would  confirm  Evelyn's  words,  that  Hazel  was 
a  stealthy  actress. 

Sometimes  Hazel's  weaker  spirit  would  rise 
uppermost,  remembering  Aubrey,  as  he  stood  in 
the  moonlight,  tall,  noble,  princely.  Then  she 
found  herself  wishing  to  be  always  near  him.  It 
seemed  last  night,  with  him  beside  her,  that 
nothing  could  do  her  harm.  She  felt  so  safe,  so 
happy.  But  now  —  oh  now  —  everything  looked 
dark  and  foreboding,  —  darker  than  before  his 
coming ! 


224  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

Her  sense  of  duty  and  the  joy  of  her  love  con- 
flicting, her  cheek  was  pale  and  her  eyes  downcast. 

Daylight  waned  at  last,  and  evening  came  on 
apace.  Hazel  saw  little  of  Evelyn  except  at  table, 
when  scarce  a  word  or  glance  was  exchanged 
between  them.  The  only  time  when  their  eyes 
met  Hazel  believed  she  saw  beneath  the  severity 
of  Evelyn's  a  look  full  of  despair,  —  a  look  which 
troubled  Hazel  all  the  afternoon,  and  increased  her 
pity  for  her  cousin  ;  for  it  smote  her  with  remorse 
at  having  cherished  a  deceptive  thought. 

Could  our  innocent  have  rightly  interpreted 
that  look,  she  would  have  recoiled  from  the  very 
memory  of  her  recent  meeting  with  Aubrey ;  but 
no  knowledge  came  to  her  of  the  envy  which  was 
petrifying  Evelyn's  life,  and  Hazel  went  on  looking 
forward  to  the  time  when  she  would  see  him  again, 
unconscious  that  she  was  treading  on  the  coils  of 
a  serpent,  and  that  soon  the  viper  would  raise  its 
fearful  crest  against  her.  By  degrees  an  unna- 
tural brilliancy  crept  into  Hazel's  look.  The  very 
thought  of  once  again  beholding  her  Icing  ^  as  she 
secretly  called  Aubrey,  filled  her  with  bliss. 

After  dinner,  when  she  had  sought  her  room  as 
usual,  Hazel  put  on  her  plainest  mourning  dress, 
adjusted  a  creamy  fichu  about  her  neck,  arranged 
her  bright  hair  into  a  diadem,  and  leaned  toward 
the  mirror,  until  her  soft  warm  lips  met  those 
of  the  reflection  therein.  It  was  a  childish  action ; 
but  one  that  must  appeal  to  any  heart  realizing 


FATE   GOETH  FIRST.  225 

the  girl's  loneliness,  her  desire  for  something  to 
love,  something  to  caress. 

A  smile  curled  her  coral  lips  as  she  did  so. 
Then  she  exclaimed  with  amazement:  "Why,  how- 
like  Myrtle  I  look ! "  Once  more  she  kissed  the 
reflection.  "I  will  make  believe  it  is  you,  Myrtle 
darling !  Oh,  I  love  you !  " 

The  face  smiled  back,  and  she  seemed  to  hear 
Myrtle's  voice  saying :  "  I  love  you  too  !  I  love 
you,  I  love  you  ! "  From  the  distance  that  voice 
seemed  borne  to  her;  and  long  she  stood  there, 
gazing  devotedly  into  her  own  face,  but  seeing, 
instead  of  blue  eyes  and  gold-brown  hair,  orbs  of 
soft  brown  and  a  crown  of  topaz. 

The  time  now  passed  tediously.  Almost  for  the 
first  time  in  her  life,  Hazel  began  to  experience 
the  gnawing  of  suspense.  She  watched  unceas- 
ingly the  dial  of  the  clock  on  the  dressing-table. 
With  every  breath  she  wondered  if  ever  minutes 
so  loitered  before. 

As  to  all  things  else,  there  came  an  end  to 
Hazel's  probation.  The  hands  pointed  to  a  quar- 
ter of  eleven.  It  would  certainly  require  fifteen 
minutes  to  reach  the  trysting-place ;  so,  putting  on 
a  warm  circular,  and  tossing  a  scarf  over  her  head, 
she  noiselessly  glided  from  her  room. 

She  had  only  to  pass  down  the  back  hallway, 
open  a  window  looking  into  the  garden,  and  she 
was  outside.  Her  feet  once  safely  on  the  ground, 
and  the  sweet  breath  of  flowers  about  her,  she 


226  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

hastily  plucked  a  cluster  of  chrysanthemums,  and 
bestowed  them  amid  the  lace  covering  her  bosom. 
Then  she  sped  across  the  lawn,  down  the  magnolia 
avenue,  keeping  well  within  the  shadows. ' 

At  length  she  reached  the  wide  driveway  and 
gate.  She  felt  free  from  discovery,  and  was  in 
the  act  of  drawing  the  heavy  bolt,  when,  Hark ! 
Was  that  the  sound  of  footsteps,  falling  suddenly 
upon  the  tranquil  air?  Yes!  Faster  and  faster, 
nearer  and  nearer  they  came. 

Hazel's  first  impulse  was  to  lift  the  hook,  rush 
out  into  the  forest,  and  conceal  herself  behind  the 
trunk  of  some  great  tree ;  for  she  felt  a  presenti- 
ment that  Evelyn  was  in  pursuit;  but  her  feet 
were  as  heavy  as  though  "to  the  soil  they  had 
taken  root,"  and  she  stood  helpless,  as  fixed  as  one 
of  the  statues  in  the  shrubbery. 

One  hand  was  on  the  gate.  Her  eyes  were 
directed  towards  an  abrupt  bend  in  the  driveway, 
around  which  she  knew  her  follower  must  soon 
appear.  How  soon  indeed !  The  next  instant  a 
woman's  figure  dashed  into  sight,  and  the  moon- 
beams fell  upon  a  beautiful  face  disfigured  with 
anger. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

HOPE    REVIVED. 
LOVE  can  hope,  where  reason  would  despair. 

BULWER. 

ON  returning  from  her  usual  horseback  ride 
that  evening,  the  only  recreation  in  which 
Evelyn  now  indulged,  she  lingered  in  the  stable- 
yard  to  give  Noel  some  instructions  about  the 
removal  of  a  span  of  horses  to  Fairacre  the  next 
day.  She  had  finished  her  orders,  when  the  hostler 
said  abruptly:  "Missy  Eb'lyn,  I  see  de  gem'lin 
t'day  wot  stop  at  de  Grange  afo  marsa  and  missus 
die." 

His  young  mistress  turned  upon  him,  a  mad 
hope  kindling  in  her  eyes  and  deluging  her  cheek. 
"  Whom  do  yon  mean  ?  "  she  managed  to  say. 

Vainly  she  strove  to  crowd  back  the  image  of 
Aubrey.  The  bare  idea  of  his  being  the  visitor 
rendered  her,  for  a  moment,  scarcely  mistress  of 
herself. 

The  boy's  next  words  brought  with  them  a 
bewildering  sensation.  "I  means  de  gem'lin  wot 
was  call  Marsa  Deberall." 

"  You  're  mistaken  !  Do  you  hear  me  ?  I  say 
you  are  mistaken!  It  is  incredible.  He  is  hun- 
dreds of  miles  away." 

(227) 


228  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

"  Fo'  de  Lawd,  Missy  Ebelyn,  I  seed  him," 
persisted  Noel. 

Then  he  added,  with  a  peculiar  jerk  of  the  head  : 
"  I  seed  Mounsour  Deberall,  shuah  's  my  name  's 
Noel  Johnsing.  I  seed  him  a  sittin'  on  de  hotel 
poach  in  Jaspah,  smokin'  a  segah ;  un'  I  says  to 
myself,  'Now,'  says  I,  <dat  am  de  berry  gem'lin, 
as  was  at  de  Grange  las'  summah.'  I  says  ter 
myself,  says  I, '  Him  '11  be  gwine  ober  to  de  Grange 
dis  ebenin',  fo'  ter  see  Missy  Eb'ly ; '  un'  if  he 
do  n't  now,  chile,  I 's  miss  my  reck'non,  dat 's 
—  Gimminy !  Missy  Eb'lyn,  wot  ails  ye  ?  " 

He  stepped  forward  to  support  her,  for  she 
seemed  about  to  faint ;  but,  suddenly  collecting 
herself,  she  motioned  him  back  with  a  nervous 
gesture.  "A  —  nothing  is  the  matter  with  me  !  " 
Flashing  an  angry  look  upon  him  she  added, 
"  You  're  an  idiot ! "  and  then  hurried  from  the 
barnyard. 

"  Gimminy !  Dat  am  a  she-tig«r !  "  soliloquized 
Noel,  when  she  was  well  beyond  earshot.  "  Guess 
her 's  in  lub  wid  dat  gem'lin,  dat  Mounsour  Deb- 
erall. Bet  my  las'  coppah  he  'd  nebber  marry  dat 
gal  if  he  knowed  what  dis  yah  niggah  do.  I 
knows  her !  Yes,  I  does !  Reckon  I 's  got  two 
eyes  for  to  see  de  teahs  in  Missy  Hazel  mos'  eb'ry 
day  since  old  marsa  and  missus  die.  How  de 
bressed  chile  am  change  since  den !  Her  use  ter 
be  playful-like,  as  a  kitten.  Up  in  de  mo'nin',  afo 
de  sun  riz,  chasin'  de  butterflies,  along  wid  de  dog, 


HOPE  REVIVED.  229 

—  rompin',  singin'.  Um  golly!  How  dat  pooty 
froat  did  make  de  air  ring !  Happy  as  de  birds ! 
Now  her  goes  about  wid  dem  eyes  full  o'  teahs, 
'n  wid  de  roses  all  gone  f  om  her  pooty  face.  Oh, 
it  a'mos'  breaks  my  heart,  fo'  ter  see  how  pale 
and  sad-like  she  looks  !  Un'  who  'm  'sponsible  fo' 
all  dis  yah  ?  Dat  she-tiger !  Bah !  Her  aint  fit 
t'  tie  my  honey's  shoes ! "  In  no  amiable  mood 
the  darkey  tossed  the  saddle  roughly  aside,  and 
led  Alcides  to  his  stall. 

Aubrey  Deverell  in  Jasper !  Impossible  !  Yet 
how  positive  that  boy  was.  Dear  Heaven,  if  she 
could  be  convinced  his  words  were  true !  If  she 
could  feel  assured  he  were  near.  "My  darling, 
would  that  you  were  coming  to  me ! "  "\Pft6  the  cry 
of  Evelyn's  heart. 

Sinking  into  an  armchair,  she  did  not  leave  her 
room  until  darkness  closed  about  her.  At  one 
moment  she  strove  to  put  Noel's  words  from  her 
as  idle  chatter.  The  next  she  yielded  herself  to 
feverish  imaginations,  born  of  faith  in  the  boy's 
report. 

If  Aubrey  were  in  Jasper  he  was  surely  on  his 
way  to  the  Grange !  Yet  why  had  he  loitered  a 
whole  afternoon  in  that  drowsy  village,  when  he 
might  easily  procure  a  horse  and  ride  over  in  an 
hour?  How  could  he  be  in  Florida  and  in  Cali- 
fornia at  the  same  time?  Had  he  not  told  her 
that  his  trip  West  would  be  extended  far  into  the 


230  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

winter,  possibly  into  spring?  Had  he  heard  of 
her  affliction,  and  therefore  altered  his  plans? 
Perhaps  he  had  written  to  apprise  her  of  his 
coming,  and  the  letter  might  have  miscarried. 
Perhaps  he  had  been  awaiting  some  word  from 
her  in  Jasper.  She  would  send  a  messenger  im- 
mediately to  town  to  make  inquiries  at  the  hotel, 
—"and  deliver  a  note,  should  he  indeed  be  there. 

Finally  she  roused  herself  from  her  revery, 
resolved  to  act  at  once  upon  this  impulse ;  but 
when  she  realized  that  it  was  already  evening, 
she  also  perceived  the  foolishness  of  her  plan, 
prompted  by  naught  save  a  servant's  gossip.  She 
was  foolish  to  give  Noel's  speeches  a  moment's 
consideration,  —  yes,  very  foolish. 

With  tjiis  conclusion  she  went  across  the  room 
to  strike  a  light ;  but  her  feet  became  entangled 
in  her  riding-habit,  which,  in  her  distraction,  she 
had  forgotten  to  remove.  She  laughed  at  her 
stupidity;  but  her  laugh  was  unnatural,  as  she 
tore  her  habit  off  in  the  uncertain  light,  and  flung 
it  from  her. 

After  she  had  lighted  the  chandelier  she  moved 
towards  the  mirror,  to  smooth  her  hair ;  but  she 
recoiled  upon  beholding  the  reflection  of  her  im- 
age, and  exclaimed :  "  Great  Heavens !  Can  that 
demented-looking  thing  be  Evelyn  Weldon  ?  " 

The  transformation  was  truly  marked.  Her 
cheeks,  which  had  grown  so  cadaverous  since  the 
death  of  her  parents,  were  now  glowing.  Her 


HOPE  REVIVED,  231 

dark  eyes  shone  like  diamonds  in  their  deep  set- 
ting. In  the  mirror  she  could  see  the  bits  of  rich 
bricabrac  on  the  mantle,  and  the  clock  whose 
hands  pointed  exactly  to  seven. 

"  Seven  o'clock ! "  she  exclaimed ;  and  as  hope 
revived  the  inward  conflict  she  added  :  "  He  may 
be  on  his  way  at  this  very  moment." 

A  sudden  rap  at  the  door  made  her  heart  stand 
still  with  expectation ;  but  it  was  only  her  maid, 
who  came  to  inquire  if  she  would  not  come  down 
to  dinner.  "  Bofe  bells  done  rung,  an  Mist'is 
Ormsby  an'  Missy  Hazel  am  a'waitin'." 

Evelyn  had  not  heard  either  bell.  "I  won't 
come  down  tonight,  Phebe,"  she  responded,  sink- 
ing languidly  upon  the  sofa ;  "  but  you  may  bring 
me  a  strong  cup  of  tea.  Stay ! "  she  exclaimed, 
as  the  maid  was  about  to  withdraw,  "  bring  me1  a 
glass  of  sherry,  instead.  My  ride  has  quite  upset 
me.  I  may  want  some  tea  later." 

After  drinking  the  wine  thirstily,  she  dismissed 
Phebe  for  the  night,  locked  her  door,  and  began 
a  superb  toilet,  selecting  from  her  wardrobe  a  rich 
lavender  satin,  over  which  were  filmy  folds  of 
black  lace.  "If  he  should  come,"  she  said  to 
herself,  "  I  must  be  looking  my  best." 

Oh  that  invincible  if.  How  often  suspense 
would  give  place  to  joy  if  we  could  bridge  this 
little  gulf  !  How  often  do  we  battle  against  grim 
despair  with  this  one  word  burning  in  our  bosoms, 
inciting  us  to  hope  for  what  reason  forbids.  If, 


232  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

if,  IF,  goes  on  the  alluring  spirit- voice  within  us ; 
and  we  hearken  to  the  muffled  cry,  half -doubting, 
half-believing.  With  strained  pulse  we  anticipate, 
and  yet  dread,  the  instant  which  must  bring  us 
face  to  face  with  the  inevitable. 

Thus  was  it  with  Evelyn.  Her  heart  had  long 
been  a  stranger  to  the  hope  that  she  could  ever 
again  be  to  Aubrey  Deverell  what  once  she  was. 
She  had  moreover  schooled  herself  to  the  belief 
that  they  would  never  cross  each  other's  paths 
again.  Yet  here  she  was,  a  struggling  victim 
to  that  unattainable  if,  trying  now  to  thrust  the 
negro's  statement  aside,  and  anon  catching  his 
words  on  the  rebound,  and  hugging  them  to  her 
breast,  in  breathless  readiness  to  believe ;  for  the 
wish  is  ever  "  father  to  the  thought." 

At  length,  completely  mastered  by  this  delusive 
influence,  she  seated  herself  at  the  open  window, 
her  eyes  directed  toward  the  magnolia  avenue, 
along  which  she  hoped  —  against  hope  —  to  see 
her  idol  pass. 

Little  she  dreamed  that  not  far  away  sat  Hazel 
in  her  chamber,  her  heart  also  astir  with  anxiety, 
born  of  the  hours  which  depicted  the  same  image. 

Yes,  before  them  each  was  the  same  face ;  but 
while  one  looked  with  strained  eyes  from  the 
window,  feeling  her  heart  gradually  settle  back 
into  the  darkness  from  which  it  had  been  rudely 
summoned, —  as  the  hours  dragged  on,  and  Aubrey 
came  not,  —  the  other's  blue  eyes  were  fixed  upon 


HOPE  REVIVED.  233 

the  face  of  the  clock,  noting  each  moment  with  a 
heart-throb,  and  sure  that  each  brought  her  king 
a  step  nearer. 

Queen  Constance,  who  looked  down  upon  Eve- 
lyn with  solemn  eyes  from  her  silvered  frame, 
seemed  no  more  lifeless  than  Evelyn. 

The  indescribable  beauty  of  the  night  was  un- 
marked. Softly  the  moonbeams  fell  on  each  flower 
and  shrub  in  the  garden  below.  Brightly  they 
glanced  athwart  the  fountain,  and  turned  the  jets 
into  pearly  spray.  The  green  sward  and  the  blue 
ether  were  alike  resplendent  with  scintillating 
gems;  while  the  white-winged  cherubim  and  the 
Naiad  Queen,  smiling  and  flinging  kisses  to  the 
stars,  made  the  garden  a  fairyland. 

A  flood  of  silver  came  streaming  through  the 
window  where  Evelyn  sat,  and  turned  the  cur- 
tains into  folds  of  frostwork,  putting  to  shame  the 
glaring  light  of  the  chandelier ;  but  the  moonlight 
softened  not  the  human  visage,  framed  in  its  coronal 
of  cruel  hair.  Like  a  statue  she  sat,  her  queenly 
head  defined  against  the  glistening  gauze,  —  her 
shapely  hands,  folded  listlessly  in  her  lap,  gleaming 
like  carved  ivory,  against  meshes  of  dead-black' 
lace. 

Surely  painter  never  chose  a  better  model  for 
Despair.  Ever  since  half-past  nine  had  she  re- 
mained thus  statuesquely  posed,  her  eyes  gazing 
out  into  the  night,  —  whose  stars  she  saw  not, 
whose  beauty  was  ugliness  to  her ;  and  now  it  was 
nearly  eleven. 


234  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

Suddenly  a  dark-clad  figure  glided  along  the 
avenue,  beneath  her  casement.  The  incident 
would  ordinarily  have  passed  unnoticed ;  but  there 
was  something  about  the  movement  which  recalled 
Evelyn  to  herself,  and  caused  her  to  rub  her 
eyes,  like  one  awakening  from  unpleasant  slumber. 
Then  she  looked  after  that  retreating  form,  —  but 
only  for  a  moment.  The  next  she  bounded  to  her 
feet.  With  an  exclamation  of  frenzy  she  rushed 
from  the  room,  and  ran  down  the  stairway  like 
one  bewitched.  Out  of  the  front  door  and  across 
the  lawn  she  dashed,  a  goblin  driven  by  a  blast 
of  fury. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

FACE    TO    FACE. 
THAT  it  should  come  to  this. 


HAMLET. 


FULL  a  moment  elapsed  ere  the  painful  silence 
which   followed  Evelyn's   apparition  in  the 
pathway  was  broken.    She  was  the  first  to  speak. 

"  Well,  what  is  the  motive  of  this  midnight 
adventure,  Hazel  ?  I  demand  an  explanation  !  " 
In  her  voice  were  blended  triumph  and  menace. 

For  one  moment  Hazel  looked  appealingly  into 
the  cruel  face  before  her;  but  seeing  no  mercy 
there  she  began  brokenly:  "I  —  Evelyn  —  I  — 

The  pale  lips  refused  to  speak  further.  She 
could  not  bring  them  to  form  a  falsehood.  She  had 
never  acquired  the  tricks  of  diplomacy.  Had  her 
life  depended  upon  it,  she  could  not  have  given 
utterance  to  deceit. 

She  tried  to  meet  Evelyn's  eyes  unflinchingly, 
but  her  own  fell  before  them,  and  she  shuddered 
as  she  beheld  their  unholy  glitter. 

"  Why  do  you  stand  there  trembling  like  some 
impostor  ?  Speak !  Where  are  you  going  at  this 
unseemly  hour  ?  " 

"Going?"  echoed  the  other  in  a  dazed  way.  "I 
was  going  —  " 

(235) 


236  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

Suddenly  she  seemed  to  realize  her  helplessness, 
and  tried  to  arouse  herself  to  the  necessity  ot 
making  an  effort  in  her  own  defence.  "  Oh  Eve- 
lyn, trust  me !  Only  believe  in  me !  " 

Her  very  attitude  seemed  to  develop  Evelyn's 
suspicion  into  certainty.  She  moved  spasmodi- 
cally. Her  eyes  were  almost  green  in  the 
moonlight.  Her  white  lips  twitched,  as  she 
grasped  one  of  Hazel's  wrists  and  hissed:  "You 
wretch!  Tell  me  what  has  taken  you  from  my 
house  this  night,  or  I  swear  I  will  measure  your 
punishment  by  my  aversion." 

Her  grip  was  so  tight  on  Hazel's  wrist  that  the 
younger  girl  suffered  acutely  from  the  cutting 
nails ;  but  she  did  not  flinch  nor  cry  out ;  she  only 
said,  with  forced  calmness:  "Evelyn,  I  entreat 
you,  have  pity!  You  do  not  know  the  injustice 
you  do  me.  I  have  done  nothing  wrong,  I  swear 
it!" 

"  You  swear ! "  repeated  Evelyn  with  a  Satanic 
laugh.  A  mockingbird,  who  had  been  filling  the 
night  with  melody,  now  hushed  his  rich  notes,  as 
if  in  fear  of  that  strange  voice. 

"Oaths  coming  from  lips  false  as  yours,  Hazel 
Verne,  pollute  the  very  air,"  she  continued.  "  You 
have  stolen  from  your  room  tonight  to  hold  a  clan- 
destine meeting  with  Aubrey  Deverell.  Though 
you  should  summon  an  angel  from  Heaven  to  deny 
this,  I  would  not  hold  you  innocent." 

She  pushed  the  fainting  girl  violently  from  her. 


FACE   TO  FACE.  237 

After  a  moment's  burning  surveillance  she  was 
about  to  speak  again,  when,  as  if  aided  by  some 
unseen  influence,  Hazel  lifted  her  head  proudly, 
and  said,  in  a  voice  strangely  subdued :  "  Evelyn, 
if  in  the  past  you  had  shown  the  slightest  friend- 
ship for  me,  the  least  tender  sentiment  of  any 
kind,  there  would  be  no  cause  for  your  lack  of 
confidence  now.  When  I  entered  your  father's 
home  four  years  ago,  a  lonely  and  inexperienced 
child',  I  cherished  a  conviction  that  you  would 
receive  me  with  something  of  a  cousin's  affection ; 
but  my  disappointment  was  greater  than  words 
can  express." 

She  went  on  hurriedly,  anxious  to  pour  out  her 
heart's  pent-up  misery :  "  You  were  cold  toward 
me,  —  cruelly  cold,  —  from  the  very  first  moment 
we  met.  Though  your  treatment  wounded  me 
deeply,  it  did  not  discourage  my  ambition  to 
make  you  my  friend.  In  this  I  persisted  from 
day  to  day,  to  the  time  when  aunt  and  uncle 
died ;  but  I  never  succeeded  in  winning  a  really 
kind  word  or  glance.  Often  have  I  wept  my 
heart  sore,  because  of  your  utter  contempt.  My 
life  seemed  sometimes  unbearable  ;  but  at  other 
times  I  forgot  all  else,  and  was  happy  in  the 
love  of  my  dear  aunt  and  uncle.  They  died !  If 
you  were  cruel  and  cold  before,  you  were  utterly 
heartless  afterward.  You  seem  to  forget  that  I 
am  of  your  own  flesh  and  blood.  You  seem  in 
nowise  to  appreciate  my  lonely  position  in  the 


238  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

world;  though  your  own  is  much  the  same,  and 
should  prompt  you  to  some  sense  of  sympathy. 
From  day  to  day  you  show  your  hatred  for  me. 
If  you  deign  to  notice  me  at  all,  it  is  to  brand 
me  with  unjust  accusations." 

Here  Hazel  paused,  and  the  glistening  tears 
declared  that  her  short-lived  spirit  of  independence 
had  spent  itself. 

A  few  moments  of  silence  followed,  when  only 
Evelyn's  labored  breathing  and  Hazel's  quavering 
sobs  could  be  heard.  Did  "  compunctious  visit- 
ings"  silence  the  former?  Whatever  the  cause, 
Hazel  was  suffered  to  proceed  awhile  longer,  as 
she  spoke  with  visible  effort. 

"I  have  found  generous  friends,  with  whom  I 
am  offered  a  home,  —  friends  before  whom  I  could 
kneel,  so  deeply  do  I  reverence  them ;  but  I  have 
pleaded  with  you  in  vain  to  let  me  go  to  them. 
You  say  you  will  send  me  to  a  convent,  rather 
than  see  me  attain  the  happiness  I  feel  to  be 
rightfully  mine,  —  offered  me,  as  it  is,  by  my  dead 
father's  sister,  who  has  seemed,  since  the  first  time 
I  saw  her,  like  my  own  mother  — 

Evelyn  started  spasmodically  at  that  word 
mother )  and  a  low  cry  escaped  her  lips.  She 
recovered  herself  immediately,  however,  and  said 
sneeringly,  as  she  bent  her  dark  face  nearer,  that 
she  might  look  straight  into  those  true  eyes  before 
her:  "You  grow  sensational!  Pray  let  me  im- 
press you  with  the  fact  that  this  is  no  time  for 


FACE    TO  FACE.  239 

dramatics.  You  have  wandered  far  from  our 
subject,  so  I  will  recall  it.  You  owe  me  some 
explanation  of  your  midnight  wanderings.  I  say 
you  have  an  assignation  with  Aubrey  Deverell, 
and  are  on  your  way  to  the  trysting-place.  I 
happen  to  know  he  is  in  the  neighborhood,  so  any 
attempt  to  mislead  me  will  be  useless.  Confess !  " 

'•Evelyn,  my  lips  are  sealed,"  began  Hazel;  but 
the  next  instant  she  reeled  under  a  stinging  blow. 

"  Shameless  coward !  Not  alone  have  you  en- 
ticed my  lover  from  me,  but  you  have  stooped  to 
infamy.  Oh,  I  thank  God  my  parents  have  been 
spared  the  knowledge  of  their  foster-child's  char- 
acter !  Better  they  should  die,  than  live  to  be 
disgraced  by  one  they  delivered  from  beggary  and 
the  slums.  Go  back  to  the  house,  you  ingrate  !  " 

Hazel  did  not  move,  but  lifted  her  eyes  to  the 
distorted  face.  The  poor  child  was  choking,  and 
nervously  unclasped  the  mantle  from  about  her 
throat.  Then  all  was  darkness.  That  messenger 
of  mercy,  unconsciousness,  came  to  alleviate  her 
sufferings  for  a  time ;  but  her  awakening  was 
terrible,  for  she  felt  herself  dragged  towards  the 
house,  with  the  words  ringing  in  her  ear :  "  Your 
home  shall  henceforth  be  the  Magdalen  Asylum !  " 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

THE    FALLEN    PORTRAIT. 

LOOK  here  upon  this  picture. 

HAMLET. 

AFTER  thrusting  Hazel  within  the  governess's 
room,  —  which  Evelyn  concluded  would  be 
the  safest  place,  because  situated  in  the  less- 
frequented  part  of  the  house,  and  at  present 
vacant,  —  she  locked  the  door  on  the  outside. 
Then  she  tottered,  sick  and  half-fainting,  to  her 
own  apartments. 

She  went  toward  the  grate,  in  which  a  few  Bright 
coals  still  glowed,  feeling  a  tremor  in  every  limb, 
—  a  tremor  not  caused  by  the  temperature  of  the 
night,  but  by  the  shattered  condition  of  her  nerves, 
and  then  gave  vent  to  a  cry  which  vibrated  with 
agony. 

Then  she  sank  into  a  chair,  with  both  hands 
pressed  to  her  face.  In  appearance  she  had  aged 
years  within  an  hour.  Let  us  not  attempt  to 
describe  the  thoughts  which  thronged  her  aching 
brain  as  she  thus  sat,  hugged  in  the  arms  of  misery 
worse  than  death.  Words  are  inadequate  to  the 
portrayal  of  such  sufferings  as  hers. 

She  was  in  a  stupor.  Before  her  eyes  a  mist 
gathered,  as  she  let  them  wander  aimlessly  about 
(240) 


THE  FALLEN  PORTRAIT.  241 

the  room.  A  smile,  in  which  there  was  something 
indescribably  pitiable,  wreathed  the  lips,  which 
moved  continuously,  though  nothing  audible  es- 
caped them.  Once  or  twice  she  attempted  to 
rouse  herself ;  but  she  was  like  an  inebriate,  who 
bestirs  his  paralyzed  faculties  for  one  instant,  only 
to  let  them  sink  deeper  into  oblivion. 

Slowly  the  night  dragged  on.  At  length  dawn 
gleamed  into  the  open  window,  bringing  with  it  a 
current  of  chilly  air.  Every  spark  of  fire  had 
been  long  exhausted  on  the  hearth,  but  Evelyn  no 
longer  felt  the  cold.  The  sun  rose.  The  early 
birds  flew  by  the  window,  some  of  them  alighting 
on  the  ledge,  and  peeping  in  upon  that  silent 
figure,  sitting  where  the  light  fell  upon  her  stony 
face. 

The  bell  in  the  barn-tower  struck  the  hour 
of  six,  the  signal  for  all  the  servants  about  the 
premises  to  be  up  and  doing.  Dreamlike  sounded 
each  clamorous  peal.  As  the  last  echo  died  away, 
Evelyn  slowly  turned  her  eyes  toward  the  window, 
as  if  vaguely  realizing  that  a  new  day  had  begun. 
At  the  same  time  she  became  conscious  of  a  living 
figure  in  the  room.  She  walked  toward  it,  and 
saw  only  her  own  image  reflected  in  an  opposite 
mirror.  This  insane-looking  creature,  with  dark 
hair  falling  in  tangled  masses  about  her  shoulders, 
had  a  weird  fascination,  though  she  scarcely 
recognized  it  as  herself. 

Walking  gradually  toward  the  mirror,  with  arms 


242  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

outstretched,  a  piteous  smile  still  lurking  about 
her  lips,  she  spoke  as  one  might  to  a  beggar  : 
"  Poor  thing  !  Poor  suffering  woman  !  What 
do  you  wish  ?  Food,  drink  ?  I  will  give  you  any- 
thing. See ! " 

Mechanically  her  fingers  wandered  to  her  ears, 
disengaging  the  priceless  diamonds  therefrom. 
"  Take  these,"  she  cried,  "  and  these,"  —  stripping 
two  rings  from  her  fingers,  and  holding  the 
glittering  cluster  toward  the  image,  whose  hands 
were  also  outstretched,  seemingly  to  grasp  the 
offering. 

Just  as  Evelyn's  hand  came  into  contact  with 
the  cold  surface  of  the  glass,  there  was  a  fearful 
crash  behind  her.  She  turned  with  a  terrified 
shriek.  Her  mother's  portrait,  which  for  years 
had  hung  above  the  mantel,  lay  on  the  floor, 
together  with  rare  curios  carried  along  by  the 
heavy  frame  in  its  fall,  broken  into  a  hundred 
pieces. 

The  portrait  had  fallen  face  upward.  From 
beneath  the  thin  glass,  shivered  into  innumerable 
fragments,  a  pair  of  gray  eyes  looked  straight  into 
Evelyn's,  —  looked  up  reproachfully,  yet  with  holy 
tenderness,  as  if  her  mother's  heart  were  speaking 
from  their  depths :  "  Thou  hast  wounded  a  spirit 
that  loved  thee!  Thy  wicked  words  have  come 
to  me  in  Heaven  !  Thou  hast  sinned  against  the 
dead !  Thou  hast  outraged  the  living !  " 

For  a  moment  Evelyn  met  this  painted  gaze 


THE  FALLEN  PORTRAIT.  243 

with  returning  reason.  Then,  with  extended  arms 
and  a  low  cry  of  mother ',  mother!  she  fell  forward 
upon  her  face,  and  lay  there  motionless  beside  the 
fallen  portrait. 

Monsieur  Deverell,  having  waited  until  past 
midnight  for  Hazel  at  the  appointed  place,  turned 
his  horse  back  toward  Jasper  with  a  keen  sense  of 
disappointment.  Convinced  that  something  un- 
foreseen had  detained  Hazel  at  the  Grange,  he 
resolved  to  convey  to  her  a  secret  message  in  the 
morning. 

Fortune  favored  him  in  this.  After  breakfast 
he  sauntered  out  to  the  esplanade,  to  indulge  in  a 
cigar.  Glancing  casually  up  the  narrow  street  he 
saw  a  negro  on  horseback,  whom  he  recognized  as 
the  hostler  from  the  Grange,  galloping  hurriedly 
in  the  direction  of  the  hotel.  Recognizing  Mon- 
sieur Aubrey  as  he  came  nearer,  Noel  doffed  his 
hat  politely.  At  Aubrey's  signal  he  drew  rein. 

"  You  are  from  Weldon  Grange  ?  " 

« I  is !     Yes-sah  !  " 

"  And  you  go  back  this  morning  ?  " 

"  Yes-sah !     I 's  gwine  back  d'rectly,  sah." 

"  Can  I  trust  you  with  a  note  to  Miss  Verne,  to 
be  delivered  to  her  privately  ?  " 

"  Missy  Berne  ?  Oh,  yes-sah !  but  has  yer  got 
de  note  ready  writ,  marsa?  Yer  sees,  I's  in  a 
termendious  hurry  dis  mo'nin'." 

Hereupon  he  would  have  made  known  his  errand 


244  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

to  town,  which  was  to  summon  the  family  physician 
to  Evelyn's  bedside,  but  he  was  interrupted  by 
Aubrey:  "Well,  I  won't  detain  you;  but  if  you 
are  passing  back  this  way,  say  in  twenty  minutes, 
I  will  have  the  note  ready,  and  trust  to  you  for 
its  safety." 

"  Yes-sah  ! "  said  Noel ;  and,  touching  his  hat 
again,  he  added  that  he  would  return  within  half 
an  hour.  Then  he  was  off  like  the  wind,  for  he 
was  astride  of  Don  Carlos. 

The  young  Frenchman  hastened  at  once  to  his 
room  in  the  hotel,  and  wrote  to  Hazel  hastily : 

I  AWAITED  you  at  the  appointed  place  until  after  mid- 
night. That  some  impediment  prevented  your  coming  as 
you  promised  is  clear  enough ;  for  I  know  you  trust  me 
wholly,  little  one,  and  would  not  wilfully  disappoint  me. 
Would  I  could  make  you  realize  the  strength  of  my  love 
for  you !  It  would  lead  me  to  defy  the  world  to  place  any 
barrier  between  us  that  I  could  not  surmount.  "Will  you 
let  me  prove  this  ?  Will  you  let  me  come  to  Weldon  Grange 
today,  and  claim  you  before  the  household  as  my  bride  ? 
Should  you  bid  me  come,  your  pure  heart  may  be  wounded 
by  revenge,  sharp  as  a  serpent's  tooth ;  but  should  its  sting 
be  yours  to  endure,  remember,  little  one,  that  I  will  be 
there  to  shield  you  with  my  love,  and  the  pain  will  only 
endure  for  a  time, —only  for  a  little  time,  — when  I  will 
carry  you  far  from  the  enemy,  where  you  will  forget  that 
unhappiness  ever  existed.  • 

Doubtless  some  of  my  words  will  puzzle  you.  In  your 
ignorance  of  the  world's  inhumanity  you  will  be  little  able 
to  interpret  that  bitter  word  revenge  ;  nor  would  I  seek  to 
instill  into  your  heart  such  impure  knowledge ;  but  in  my 
experience  I  have  learned  that  a  vengeful  thirst  is  much 
like  intemperance.  It  waits  not  the  guidance  of  reason.  It 
is  impulsive,  unjust,  and  can  smite  to  bleeding  a  guileless 
heart,  even  as  a  wind-blast  can  smite  a  lily  to  the  earth. 


THE  FALLEN  PORTRAIT.  245 

I  pray  you,  my  pure  one,  bear  this  in  mind,  and  be  brave 
when  I  come  to  you.  I  can  not  doubt  that  you  will  bid  me 
come.  Remember,  Hazel,  this  is  the  most  earnest  appeal 
of  a  lifetime.  Refusing  to  grant  it,  you  may  be  submitting 
yourself  to  an  experience  more  bitter  than  death.  Once 
more  I  charge  you,  be  brave,  darling,  and  surrender  your 
future,  without  fear  or  hesitation,  to  one  who  loves  you 
unselfishly,  and  would  sacrifice  all  else  to  gain  you  for  his 
own. 

I  will  await  your  reply  at  noon,  today,  down  at  the  lake. 
Either  come,  or  send  some  word  to  me. 

AUBREY  DEVERELL. 

Having  sealed  and  addressed  the  letter  Aubrey 
descended  to  the  veranda  to  await  Noel's  return ; 
but  he  was  surprised  to  find  the  boy  already 
there.  Urging  him  to  great  precaution  in  the 
delivery  of  the  letter,  Aubrey  thrust  a  five-dollar 
bill  into  the  yellow  palm,  at  the  same  time  declining 
any  thanks,  with  an  expressive  sweep  of  his  hand. 
Then  he  watched  the  rider  out  of  sight  before 
ordering  a  horse  to  be  saddled  for  his  own  im- 
mediate use. 


CHAPTER   XXVIII. 

GATHERING    MISTS. 

THE  child  of  misery,  baptized  in  tears. 

LANGHORN. 

AND  our  heroine  ?  Daylight  found  her  lying 
on  Arline's  bed,  as  she  lay  when  the  door 
was  closed  and  locked  behind  her  a  few  hours 
earlier.  She  might  be  dead,  so  still  did  she  lie, 
her  face  buried  in  the  pillows,  and  her  unbound 
hair  streaming  over  their  whiteness ;  but  Hazel 
was  not  lifeless,  though  she  wondered,  with  almost 
every  breath,  why  the  death-angel  did  not  reach 
her  before  life  was  reduced  to  such  chaos.  The 
knell  of  her  happiness  had  been  tolled  in  those 
words :  "  You  have  enticed  my  lover  from  me. 
You  have  stooped  to  infamy.  Your  home  shall 
henceforth  be  the  Magdalen  Asylum ! " 

Oh,  if  she  could  find  herself  once  more  in  her 
own  little  bedroom,  with  the  conviction  that  she 
heard  such  dreadful  words  in  a  trance !  Poor 
bruised  heart ! 

The  bell  in  the  tower  tolled  six,  —  the  same  sound 
which  had  roused  Evelyn  to  half-consciousness. 
Like  her  persecutor,  Hazel  stirred  as  the  discord- 
ant clang  jarred  upon  her.  She  lifted  her  fevered 
(246) 


GATHERING  MISTS.  247 

face  from  the  pillow.  As  through  a  mist  she 
dimly  observed  the  various  objects  in  the  room, — 
the  good  old-fashioned  furniture,  a  bureau  with 
mediaeval  carvings,  the  mahogany  bookcase  with 
well-filled  shelves,  and  the  spotted  muslin  curtains, 
unlike  any  others  in  the  house. 

"  Arline,  dear  Arline !  If  you  were  only  here 
to  comfort  me ! "  came  from  Hazel's  dry  lips,  as 
she  realized  that  she  was  indeed  in  the  governess's 
room.  Then  her  tearless  eyes  wandered  to  the 
fireplace.  Above  it  still  hung  the  picture  of  Ellen 
Douglas,  —  beautiful  Ellen,  poised  in  her  little 
shallop,  where  the  water  touched  the  strand.  The 
eyes,  with  solemn  sadness,  seemed  fixed  upon 
Hazel  in  mute  sympathy.  Hazel  gazed  at  the 
picture  a  moment,  and  then  resumed  her  old 
position  on  the  bed,  once  more  sobbing  in  the 
gray  solitude. 

Presently  two  golden  arrows  came  swiftly 
through  the  window,  as  if  shot  by  angel-hands. 
They  touched  the  rippling  waves  of  the  child's 
hair,  and  began  a  game  of  hide-and-seek  amid  its 
meshes,  glad  to  find  so  fair  a  playground ;  but 
they  were  selfish  "sunbeams,  for  no  thought  gave 
they  to  the  lacerated  heart.  All  regardless  of 
Hazel's  misery  the  sunshine  danced  merrily  away. 

"  Oh  Evelyn,  Evelyn ! "  she  sobbed.  "  How  have 
I  wronged  you !  How  have  I  blindly  robbed  you 
of  what  you  held  dearer  than  life !  I  have  doomed 
you  to  misery !  I  see  it  all  now,  —  Heaven  help 


248  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

me,  I  see  it  all;  but  it  is  too  late.  I  see  the 
bitter  meaning  of  your  words.  Like  you,  I  wish 
the  dark  pool  had  engulfed  me  before  I  first  saw 
Monsieur  Deverell ! " 

How  far  away  that  happy  morning  seemed ! 
How  completely  the  intervening  time  had  been 
given  over  to  infelicity !  How  Evelyn  must  have 
suffered ! 

Hazel  recalled  many  incidents  connected  with 
Aubrey's  visit.  She  remembered  how  Evelyn  had 
looked  at  her  that  morning,  down  by  the  lake, 
when  she  had  been  rowing  with  their  guest.  She 
recollected  Evelyn's  glance  in  the  evening,  when 
Hazel  stole  into  the  parlor  to  hear  the  stranger 
sing.  She  thought  of  the  suddenness  of  Evelyn's 
exit  from  the  room.  Now  she  could  interpret  the 
meaning  of  it  all !  Evelyn  loved  Aubrey,  and 
was  jealous  of  every  syllable  and  glance  bestowed 
upon  the  little  cousin,  whom  she  hated  for  being 
at  the  Grange  while  he  was  there,  and  whom  she 
suspected  of  secret  wiles.  These  thoughts  probed 
Hazel  to  the  quick. 

"  How  could  I  have  been  so  blind  as  not  to  see 
that  she  worshipped  him!  Yet  what  was  I,  a 
child,  to  know  of  love's  ways  ?  I  wonder  if  they 
were  engaged.  Monsieur  must  have  thought  much 
of  Evelyn ;  else,  why  had  he  travelled  all  the  way 
from  New  Orleans  to  see  her?  Yes,  they  must 
have  been  betrothed !  He  would  have  married 
her,  had  he  not  seen  me,  —  had  he  not  seen  me ! 
What  is  it,  beneath  all  my  sorrow  for  Evelyn,  that 


GATHERING  MISTS.  249 

makes  me  glad  of  knowing  him  ?  I  try  to  make 
myself  believe  I  would  rather  die,  than  be  a  blight 
to  anyone ;  yet  I  find  myself  back  in  Cypress  Dell, 
listening  to  his  voice.  I  feel  again  that  strange 
sensation,  when  I  recall  his  words,  his  pressure  of 
my  hand.  This  is  all  wrong.  I  must  put  such 
thoughts  from  me  forever !  To  cherish  a  look  of 
his  would  be  wicked  !  I  will  try  —  oh  how  hard 
will  I  try  —  to  forget  him,  my  king.  I  will 
remember  only  Evelyn's  misery,  and  that  her  love 
has  been  wrecked  through  me.  I  will  pray  God 
to  restore  him  to  her.  After  all  that  has  passed, 
what  if  I  should  be  the  medium  of  reuniting  these 
two  hearts?  Surely,  if  Aubrey  loves  me  as  he 
says,  he  will  be  willing  to  make  any  sacrifice  for 
my  happiness.  Surely  — 

Her  meditations  were  suddenly  interrupted  by  a 
clinking  sound,  as  of  a  key  turning  in  the  door. 
Filled  with  terror  Hazel  pressed  her  face  deeper 
among  the  pillows,  for  she  believed  Evelyn  was 
returning  to  chide  her  victim  afresh. 

Her  heart  stood  still  with  this  dread  anticipa- 
tion, and  the  seconds  were  as  hours,  before  she 
heard  the  rustle  of  clothing  and  the  approach  of 
footsteps.  Then,  oh  merciful  tenderness,  whose 
hand  was  laid  upon  her  hair,  with  gentleness  that 
might  have  been  a  mother's?  Surely  not  Evelyn's ! 
And  that  voice,  so  low  and  sweet :  "  Chere  Hazel ! 
Chere  petite  am  fc  !  " 

"Arline,  Arline,  is  it  you?"  went  up  Hazel's 
glad  cry,  as  she  sprang  into  the  governess's  arms. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

DOUBTS. 
So  when  a  raging  fever  burns. 

A  HALF-HOUR  later,  when  Phebe  came  to 
perform  her  usual  morning  duties,  she  found 
Evelyn  prostrate  beside  her  mother's  portrait.  The 
alarm  was  given  that  something  had  befallen  their 
}roung  mistress,  and  the  servants  speedily  lifted 
the  powerless  form  to  the  bed.  It  took  but  a 
moment  to  remove  the  silk  dress,  bedraggled  with 
dust  and  soiled  with  dew.  Then  they  applied 
restoratives  and  chafed  the  lifeless  hands. 

Soon  nature  began  to  reassert  itself,  and  at 
length  Evelyn  opened  her  bloodshot  eyes.  There 
was  no  intelligence  in  their  stare,  —  only  an  awful 
vacancy,  which  caused  the  attendants  to  exchange 
gruesome  looks.  Life  had  returned,  but  all  was 
confusion  with  poor  Evelyn.  Her  face  seemed 
fanned  by  stifling  air,  as  from  a  furnace.  Her 
cheeks  flamed  brighter  and  brighter,  till  their  hue 
matched  the  tapestries  about  her  bed.  Then  her 
lips  moved  in  incoherent  phrases.  At  times  she 
would  clinch  her  hands  savagely,  brandishing  them 
at  her  attendants,  and  forbidding  them  to  touch 
her. 

(250) 


DOUBTS.  251 

"  You  have  dressed  that  infamous  girl  in 
wedding-robes,  and  put  orange-blossoms  in  her 
hair !  You  have  made  her  a  marvel  of  loveliness, 
for  his  eyes  to  rest  upon.  You  pierce  me  all  over 
with  thorns,  you  minxes,  you  worms !  I  will 
poison  you.  I  will  tie  silver  round  your  necks, 
and  sink  you  into  the  lake  !  Ha,  ha !  Nobody 
can  find  you  there!  The  money  will  hold  you 
down.  The  lilies  will  swim  above  you!  You 
will  lie  there  and  rot  till  the  Judgment  Day ! 
Not  even  the  dog  will  miss  you." 

Again  she  would  break  wildly  forth :  "  Look  ! 
That  hideous  face  with  the  red  scar !  It  is  hiding 
there  behind  the  tree,  leering  at  me!  See!  — 
TJgh,  how  horrible !  The  forest  is  full  of  goblins 
and  witches.  They  will  not  let  me  pass.  They 
are  coming  toward  me,  all  of  them !  They  will 
take  it  from  me  —  the  bundle.  Help,  help  !  One 
of  them  has  wrenched  it  from  my  bosom,  —  that 
one  there,  with  a  face  like  Aunt  Lydia's !  She 
will  see  the  name  and  read  the  letter,  and  then 
they  will  tie  me  to  a  stake  and  burn  me  for  —  for 
throwing  Myrine  in  the  lake !  — ' 

The  startling  intelligence  soon  ran  over  the 
estate  that  the  young  mistress  was  dangerously 
ill,  —  mad ;  and  as  soon  as  Noel  could  saddle  Don 
Carlos,  he  was  off  to  Jasper  after  Doctor  Weaver. 

As  Aubrey  rode  at  an  even  pace  along  the  lane 
toward  the  Grange,  the  doctor  passed  him.  The 


252  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

young  Frenchman  noted,  with  vague  apprehen- 
sions, the  old-time  saddlebags.  Knowing  the  lane 
led  direct  towards  the  Grange,  he  inferred  that 
this  must  be  the  doctor's  destination,  and  wondered 
why  Noel  had  not  told  him  of  any  sickness  there. 
His  remembrance  of  the  colored  man's  haste 
corroborated  his  forebodings. 

Upon  further  reflection,  however,  he  decided 
that  the  doctor's  mission  could  concern  neither  of 
the  young  ladies  of  the  house.  Doubtless  one  of 
the  servants  had  been  taken  ill. 

With  a  mind  more  at  ease,  Aubrey  continued 
leisurely  on  his  way,  soon  losing  sight  of  the  other 
horse  and  rider,  as  they  trotted  around  a  sudden 
bend. 

A  few  minutes  later,  as  Aubrey  was  about  to 
double  the  same  bend,  his  horse  suddenly  made  a 
violent  plunge  into  the  air,  almost  unseating  the 
rider.  Looking  around  for  the  cause  of  this  alarm 
he  saw  an  aged  mulatto  woman,  crouching  among 
the  rank  weeds  near  the  fence. 

Mistaking  her  for  a  beggar,  with  his  ever-ready 
desire  to  alleviate  suffering  Aubrey  took  a  half- 
dollar  from  his  pocket,  and  tossed  it  toward  the 
creature,  saying  as  he  did  so  :  "  You  look  needy. 
Take  this  money  !  " 

He  did  not  wait  for  a  word  of  thanks,  but  rode 
forward,  not  even  looking  to  see  if  the  woman 
picked  up  the  money.  A  sudden  thought  made 
him  check  his  horse,  and  look  searchingly  back 


DOUBTS.  253 

at  the  tawny  face,  still  half-concealed  among  the 
weeds.  The  woman  also  looked  up,  meeting  his 
penetrating  eyes ;  but  the  next  instant  she  averted 
her  face,  and  he  saw  her  sink  backward,  while  a 
sickening  aspect  settled  on  her  features. 

"  By  what  thread  does  that  repulsive  face 
connect  itself  with  my  past  life?"  he  repeated 
to  himself  over  and  over  again.  "  I  can  not  be 
mistaken !  Somewhere  I  have  seen  it  before." 

Presently,  as  guided  by  some  magic  wand,  he 
was  again  in  his  boyhood,  accompanying  his 
mother  on  a  round  of  friendly  visits.  Why  should 
that  yellow  and  red-scarred  countenance  link  itself 
with  those  visits  ?  More  and  more  enigmatical 
became  the  question. 

Aubrey  had  not  removed  his  glance  from  the 
woman's  face  ;  but  so  unconscious  was  his  look,  he 
did  not  observe  she  had  straightened  herself,  and 
was  retreating  gradually! 

A  sudden  attack  of  coughing  led  him  to  watch 
her  movements.  There  was  something  in  that 
rattling  cough  to  evoke  pity,  for  it  betokened  a 
fatal  disease. 

Her  rags  were  the  mouthpieces  of  stringent 
poverty.  Her  coarse  black  hair  lay  in  wisps  over 
a  threadbare  shawl.  A  frock,  of  some  rusty- 
black  cotton  stuff,  was  rudely  patched,  while  bare 
toes  betrayed  themselves  through  mismated  shoes, 
and  she  was  without  head-covering.  As  she  ceased 
coughing,  and  staggered  on  at  a  quicker  pace, 
Aubrey  called  after  her  :  "  Here,  woman  !  " 


254  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

She  hesitated,  and  then  reluctantly  looked  at 
him  once  more,  with  timid  eyes. 

"  Come  nearer !  " 

She  slowly  approached,  until  she  stood  within  a 
few  yards  of  her  questioner. 

"Have  you  ever  lived  in  New  Orleans?"  he 
asked,  almost  gruffly. 

She  did  not  reply,  but  turned  her  bare  head 
first  this  way  and  then  that,  like  a  haunted  crea- 
ture eluding  her  pursuer. 

"  Have  you  ever  lived  in  New  Orleans  ?  "  he 
repeated  more  gently ;  for  a  conviction  dawned 
upon  him  that  the  woman  was  demented. 

Still  she  was  silent.  The  fearsome  look  deep- 
ened, while  she  quaked  with  cold. 

"  I  am  a  brute !  I  have  frightened  her !  "  thought 
he,  as  sympathy  overruled  his  curiosity.  "  There 
is  your  money,  lying  in  the  dust !  Pick  it  up,  and 
put  this  with  it."  Thereupon  he  tossed  her  a 
second  half-dollar. 

"  Go  to  the  village,  and  get  yourself  food  and 
clothing.  Here  are  five  dollars  for  it !  "  This  he 
added,  as  he  observed  how  ragged  she  was. 

She  accepted  the  note,  picked  up  the  silver  from 
the  dust,  and  then  sank  upon  her  knees,  crying: 
"  Oh  bress  yer,  bress  yer,  marsa  !  You 's  got  a 
angel's  heart,  'n  dis  po'  soul '11  bress  yer  till  her 
dyin'  day ! " 

She  might  as  well  have  blessed  the  sentinel 
pines  by  the  roadside,  or  the  dust  upon  which 


DOUBTS.  255 

her  tears  were  falling;  for  when  she  looked  up, 
her  benefactor  was  no  longer  in  sight.  He  had 
spurred  away  as  she  stooped  for  the  money,  trying 
to  assure  himself  that  only  his  overwrought  brain 
led  him  to  behold  anything  familiar  in  the  woman's 
face ;  but  his  attempts  to  waive  his  remembrance 
of  her  proved  useless. 

He  rode  on  beneath  the  interlaced  foliage,  feeling 
a  pang  of  remorse  for  having  loitered  so  long, 
when  Hazel's  answer  was  probably  awaiting  him 
at  that  very  moment. 

He  felt  not  a  little  annoyed  at  the  indelible 
impression  that  red-scarred  visage  had  left  on  his 
mind. 

Would  that  he  could  have  seen  the  mulatto 
when,  finding  herself  alone,  she  cried  aloud,  in 
such  tones  as  only  guilt  can  awaken  :  "  Oh  my 
brack  soul,  my  brack  soul !  Dey  's  on  my  track ! 
I  '11  hide !  I  '11  hide  away  yondah,  in  de  great 
city !  "  —  meaning  Tallahassee  ;  yet  she  gripped 
the  money  in  her  yellow  palm,  as  she  repeated 
triumphantly :  "  I  '11  hide  in  de  great  city !  " 

Then  she  plodded  along  the  road  toward  Jasper, 
which  she  reached  by  noon,  and  there  purchased  a 
ticket  for  Tallahassee. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

RESOLVES. 

I  KNEW,  I  knew  it  could  not  last ; 

'T  was  bright,  'twas  heavenly,  but  'tis  past. 

MOORE. 

"  TJAZEL,  what  has  happened?  Why  do  I 
11  find  you  like  this,  —  locked  in  my  room, 
and  so  troubled?  You  have  been  crying,  little 
friend.  What  has  happened  in  my  absence,  to 
make  you  so  changed?"  Thus  asked  Arline,  when 
Hazel  became  more  subdued. 

As  yet  the  girl  could  not  bring  herself  to  dis- 
close the  facts.  She  only  clasped  her  arms  around 
the  governess's  neck,  and  said :  "  I  can  't  tell  you 
now.  Wait  till  I  'm  stronger.  It  is  enough  for 
me  to  know  that  you  are  beside  me,  with  your 
kind  heart.  Let  me  rest  my  aching  head  upon  it. 
Heaven  has  been  merciful  in  sending  back  my 
friend!" 

The  girl  looked  into  the  Frenchwoman's  face, 
which  showed  supreme  anxiety.  "Arline,"  she 
cried,  "promise  me  that  you  will  never  give  up 
your  faith  in  me,  even  though  you  should  hear 
terrible  things  about  me.  Believe  me,  —  never  in 
my  life  have  I  knowingly  done  wrong !  " 
(256) 


RESOLVES.  257 

"  Dear  love,  I  know  your  guileless  heart  too 
well  to  let  censure  enter  mine,"  said  the  governess, 
wiping  the  tears  from  the  sweet  face.  Then  with 
a  kiss  she  continued :  "  I  had  my  doubts  that  all 
was  not  going  well  with  you,  and  I  decided  to 
come  at  once,  without  advising  Mademoiselle  Eve- 
lyn of  my  intention.  It  was  some  divine  influence, 
warning  me  of  trouble  and  sickness." 

"  Sickness,  Arline  ?  " 

"  I  make  reference  to  Mademoiselle  Evelyn's 
illness.  Surely  you  know  of  it !  " 

"  Evelyn  sick  ?  No,  no,  Arline,  I  know  nothing ! 
I  have  been  here  all  night,  without  seeing  even  a 
servant.  This  is  terrible  !  You  do  not  mean  that 
she  is  really  ill  —  confined  to  her  bed  ! " 

Arline  had  secretly  believed  that  a  scene  had 
taken  place  between  her  charge  and  the  proud 
daughter  of  the  Grange ;  but  now  Hazel's  igno- 
rance of  Evelyn's  condition  was  mysterious,  and 
the  governess's  eyes  dilated  with  astonishment. 
She  stated  how  very  ill  they  considered  Evelyn, 
and  noted  how  that  look  of  anguish  deepened  in 
Hazel's  eyes. 

"  Arline,  Arline !  "  she  wailed,  as  the  governess 
paused,  "  I  have  been  the  cause  of  it  all.  I  have 
perhaps  killed  her !  Merciful  Heaven,  what  shall 
I  do  ?  Why,  oh  why  was  I  ever  born  ?  My  birth 
was  ill-starred ! " 

Speechless  alarm  ai'ose  in  the  Frenchwoman's 
heart,  as  Hazel  fell  writhing  to  the  floor.  «  Man 


258  THE   DEATH   TRUST. 

Dieu"  thought  she,  "  the  child's  mind  is  amiss  ! " 
Kneeling  she  took  the  sufferer's  head  in  her  lap, 
and  caressed  the  curls  as  she  whispered  :  "  You 
are  not  well,  my  wee  lamb.  Come,  lie  down  again 
on  my  bed,  and  let  me  bathe  your  head  and  bind 
your  hair.  That  will  soothe  you." 

Hazel  lifted  her  hand  deprecatingly.  "  No, 
no !  "  she  moaned,  "  you  mistake  my  sufferings.  I 
am  not  ill  in  body.  It  is  my  conscience.  You 
would  despise  me  if  you  knew  all;  but  believe 
me,  it  has  all  come  from  blindness.  You  shall 
judge  my  heart  some  day.  If  your  faith  remains 
unshaken  I  will  go  away  with  you  somewhere,  and 
devote  my  life  to  your  happiness.  If  you  condemn 
me, —  then, —  oh  then,  I  shudder  for  myself !  " 

Marvelling  more  and  more  at  Hazel's  words,  yet 
steadfast  in  believing  that  the  brain  was  over- 
strained, Arline  continued  to  reason  quietly :  "  Ma 
chdre  need  not  be  distressed  as  to  her  cousin's 
illness.  She  will  recover.  If  a  fracas  has  been 
between  you,  there  will  be  reconciliation.  Your 
sensitive  nature  may  make  you  'blame  yourself  as 
most  in  the  wrong ;  the  good  and  generous  always 
do.;  but  you  are  not  in  the  least  guilty, —  certainly 
not !  You  fancy  that  mademoiselle's  illness  had 
its  cause  in  this  dissension ;  but  you  mistake  !  It 
is  the  result  of  an  affaire  <T  amour" 

"  You  know  this  !  "  cried  Hazel. 

"  Oui,  ma  petite  !  I  have  known  it  many  months. 
Mademoiselle  Evelyn  was  enamored  of  my  country- 


RESOLVES.  259 

man,  Monsieur  Deverell,  who  was  here  last  summer. 
I  watched  them  often  from  my  window,  as  they 
strolled  in  the  garden  below.  I  guessed  her  secret, 
and  had  a  conviction  that  her  feelings  were  not 
reciprocated.  I  could  not  help  pitying  her,  when 
her  face  grew  thinner  every  day." 

"  Arline,  you  knew  all  this,  yet  said  not  one  word 
to  warn  me, —  to  save  me  from  bringing  her  such 
misery  ?  " 

"  Ah,  but  listen  !  Mademoiselle  Evelyn  will  be 
duly  compensated  for  what  she  suffers  through  her 
love,  for  he  is  very  near.  Nay,  he  may  be  with  her 
at  this  moment.  While  I  was  waiting  in  the  salon 
at  Jasper, —  waiting  for  the  carriage, —  a  gentleman, 
whom  I  at  once  recognized  as  Monsieur  Deverell, 
ordered  a  horse  to  be  saddled.  Without  a  doubt 
it  was  to  ride  here !  He  has  heard  of  mademoiselle's 
misfortune,  and  sympathy  impelled  his  return." 

Hazel  was  walking  toward  the  window. 

Arline  understood  this  action  as  arising  from 
eagerness  to  see  if  there  was  any  sign  of  an 
arrival.  She  placed  herself  immediately  behind 
Hazel,  and  could  see  Noel  in  the  garden.  He  was 
looking  up,  and  gesticulating  unintelligibly,  but 
evidently  trying  to  catch  Hazel's  eye. 

"  He  wishes  to  make  me  understand  something. 
I  will  go  down  and  see  what  it  is."  With  this 
Hazel  ran  down  the  short  corridor  which  led  to 
the  back  stairs. 

Another  moment  and  she  stood  in  the  garden 


260  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

below.  Here  she  was  met  by  Noel,  who  noted 
her  disappearance  from  the  window  above,  antici- 
pated her  coming  down  by  the  back  way,  and  so 
reached  the  side  gate  just  in  time  to  meet  her. 
Finding  the  coast  clear  for  the  delivery  of  Dever- 
ell's  letter,  the  boy  slipped  the  white  missive 
through  the  wicket  into  her  hand. 

"  Do  n't  let  nobody  see  ye  read  it,  Missy  Hazel ! " 
Having  given  this  advice  in  a  stealthy  undertone, 
the  negro  went  away  awkwardly  on  tiptoe,  with  a 
gait  that  would  have  been  in  itself  sufficient  to 
convict  him  of  misdemeanor,  had  there  been  an 
inquisitive  onlooker. 

Hurrying  to  her  own  room  with  the  letter,  her 
heart  all  of  a  flutter,  Hazel  locked  herself  safely 
against  intrusion,  and  read  the  loving  lines.  She 
longed  to  see  him ;  but  this  longing  she  restrained, 
whispering  to  herself  :  "  It  can  not,  it  must  not  be ! 
Evelyn's  love  must  be  restored  to  her.  I  have  no 
right  to  think  of  him,  except  as  a  friend,  —  my 
king  of  friends.  How  true  are  his  words !  How 
deeply  the  shaft  of  jealousy  has  been  thrust  into 
my  heart  he  shall  never  know.  I  will  go  to  him, 
and  say  that  I  can  never,  never  be  his  wife ;  but 
that,  if  he  loves  me,  he  must  save  Cousin  Evelyn 
by  going  at  once  to  her.  He  is  noble,  generous. 
Surely  he  will  do  this,  when  I  tell  him  it  will 
make  me  happy.  I  have  read  how  women  test 
their  lovers'  hearts.  I  will  weigh  my  king's  heart 
of  gold." 


RESOL  VES.  261 

Awhile  she  prayed.  Then  she  questioned  her 
heart.  Would  the  self-abnegation  be  mostly  hers 
or  his?  for  at  last  she  knew  that  she  loved  him 
with  all  her  soul. 


CHAPTER   XXXI. 

WAITING. 

SWKET  whispered  the  breeze,  but  it  whispered  of  woe ; 
And  bitterness  flowed  in  the  soft-gliding  stream. 

AUBREY  paced  up  and  down  the  margin  of 
the  lake,  close  by  the  spot  where  Hazel's 
little  boat  was  moored.  His  face  was  pale  and 
anxious,  his  step  quick  and  impatient.  Momen- 
tarily he  expected  Hazel,  or  some  message  from 
her.  More  and  more  unsupportable  became  his 
suspense.  At  length  he  leaped  into  the  boat,  and 
tried  to  cool  his  temples  by  laving  them  with  the 
cool  water.  Somewhat  pacified  he  found  himself 
able  to  reflect  more  calmly. 

"More  than  likely  Hazel  was  detained  by  her 
cousin,  who  perhaps  forced  the  dear  child  to 
confess  everything.  In  such  a  case,  what  rash  act 
might  not  that  woman  commit !  " 

He  glanced  at  the  placid  water,  and  suddenly 
recalled  the  words  he  had  overheard  Evelyn  use 
on  one  memorable  occasion  :  "  I  wish  the  lake  had 
covered  you  forever,  before  that  fatal  morning 
when  first  he  saw  you." 

He  could  not  believe  Evelyn  as  criminal  in  deed 
as  she  was  vengeful  in  thought ;  but  the  longer  he 
(262) 


WAITING.  263 

dwelt  upon  her  utterances,  the  more  apprehensive 
he  became. 

The  sun  sailed  higher  and  higher  over  a  sea  of 
celestial  blue,  and  golden  fire  rained  through  the 
foliage  over  Aubrey's  head.  Did  those  bright 
beams  come  as  good  omens? 

A  loud  splash  attracted  his  attention.  He  saw 
Bijou  swimming  rapidly  toward  a  mass  of  lily-roots. 
A  horrible  thought  took  possession  .  of  Aubrey. 
He  pictured  the  cold  form  of  his  love  beneath  the 
water,  her  white  face  upturned,  her  hair  entangled 
in  the  undergrowth, —  dead,  drowned  !  It  was  an 
awful  moment.  He  sat  powerless,  in  presence  of 
the  image  thus  conjured  up  in  his  mind's  eye. 

How  the  dog  panted  in  his  heroic  efforts  to 
fight  his  way  through  the  cold  pathway  to  the 
aquatic  plants.  His  respiration  grew  hoarser  till, 
in  apparent  exhaustion,  he  disappeared  beneath  the 
surface.  This  roused  Aubrey's  power  of  speech, 
and  he  cried  out  in  consternation:  "Bijou,  Bijou, 
old  fellow!" 

A  moment  after,  and  the  creature  reappeared. 
He  turned  his  large  eyes  toward  the  man  in  the 
boat ;  and  then,  as  if  encouraged  by  a  human 
presence,  he  resumed  his  struggle,  plunging  and 
winning.  At  length  the  dog  reached  the  lilies,  and 
with  one  loud  bark  disappeared  the  second  time. 
Aubrey  cut  the  boat  adrift,  and  rowed  rapidly 
toward  the  spot.  When  within  a  few  yards  of  it 
he  saw  a  black  object  rise  to  view,  floating  lifeless 


264  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

on  the  water.  Another  instant,  and  the  canine 
hero  would  have  sunk  forever,  but  with  a  sweep  of 
the  oars  Aubrey  was  beside  the  poor  fellow.  He 
held  him  afloat  with  one  strong  hand,  while  with 
the  other  he  steadied  the  boat,  in  order  to  pull  the 
dog  aboard. 

Five  minutes  later  Bijou  was  lying  on  the  sunny 
embankment,  rapidly  coming  to  himself. 

"  Had  a  cold  bath,  and  not  much  the  worse  for 
it,  eh,  my  good  fellow  ?  "  said  his  rescuer,  as  he 
rubbed  the  dog  vigorously  with  a  piece  of  burlap, 
which  he  luckily  found  in  the  boat.  The  dog  could 
only  make  dumb  signs  of  gratitude,  looking 
yearningly  into  Aubrey's  face,  and  occasionally 
lapping  his  hand,  as  it  came  within  reach. 

The  young  Frenchman  never  paused  in  his  gentle 
ministrations,  until  he  was  rewarded  by  seeing 
Bijou  on  all  fours,  shaking  himself  vigorously. 
Presently  the  dog  walked  slowly  away,  —  not, 
however,  without  casting  a  wistful  look  toward  the 
spot  which  had  twice  been  his  bane. 

Despite  this  unexpected  rescue  Deverell  had  by 
no  means  forgotten  Hazel.  Her  name  was  his 
underlying  thought,  and  he  could  hardly  endure 
her  delay.  Again  he  paced  feverishly  up  and 
down  the  lakeside,  with  hands  clasped  behind  him, 
his  lips  compressed. 

Occasionally  he  consulted  his  watch.  When  it 
indicated  a  quarter  after  one  he  grew  desperate, 
and  walked  toward  the  aperture  in  the  willows, 


WAITING.  265 

goaded  by  an  impulse  to  rush  into  the  house,  and 
demand  a  sight  of  her  whom  he  loved  so  sacredly. 

A  shout  of  joy  burst  from  him  as  he  gained  the 
opening,  for  in  a  moment  Hazel  was  clasped  in  his 
arms. 


CHAPTER   XXXII. 

THE    TEST. 

GIVE  sorrow  words  !     The  grief  that  can  not  speak 
Whispers  the  o'erfraught  heart,  and  bids  it  break. 

SHAKESPEARE. 


it  be  you,  my  love,  my  love?"  cried 
Aubrey  rapturously.  Holding  the  girl  at 
arm's  length  he  scanned  her  face  with  worshipful 
eyes  ;  but  when  he  saw  how  changed  she  was,  he 
snatched  her  to  his  heart  again. 

"  Great  God  !  What  has  happened  to  you, 
darling?  Tell  me  everything!" 

It  was  many  minutes  before  Hazel  could  bring 
herself  to  speak.  Then  she  gently  extricated  her- 
self from  his  arms,  and  said  tremulously  :  "I  have 
been  troubled.  I  did  not  come  to  you  last  night 
as  I  promised,  —  because  —  because  —  trouble  kept 
me  away.  Cousin  Evelyn  has  suddenly  been  taken 
ill.  Oh  Monsieur  Deverell,  already  her  fever  has 
reached  such  a  height  that  serious  fears  are 
entertained,  lest  she  has  not  strength  to  battle 
with  it." 

In  her  emotion  Hazel  slowly  raised  her  troubled 
eyes  till  they  rested  upon  her  companion's  coun- 
tenance. He  was  silent;  but  she  could  read  deep 
consternation  in  his  face,  as  he  waited  for  her  to 
proceed. 

(266) 


THE   TEST.  267 

"The  doctor  has  been  here  all  the  morning. 
He  is  over  her  constantly.  It  requires  all  his 
strength  to  quiet  Evelyn's  ravings.  If  you  could 
but  see  her!  I  looked  into  the  sick-room  just 
before  coming  to  you.  I  saw  her  glaring  eyes 
and  heard  her  shrieks.  One  name  was  constantly 
repeated." 

Again  Hazel  paused.  Still  Aubrey  spoke  not, 
but  his  heart  rose  and  fell  again  with  her  words. 
She  watched  his  face,  filled  with  mingled  love  and 
pity,  and  abruptly  placed  one  hand  upon  his  arm, 
as  she  asked  pleadingly :  "  Monsieur,  can  you  not 
guess  whose  name  ?  " 

"Yes  !  I  can  not  pretend  to  misunderstand  you, 
petite.  Mon  Diei<,  that  it  should  come  to  this, 
just  when  I  was  on  the  eve  of  attaining  my 
sweetest  ambition  ! "  He  put  her  from  him  almost 
roughly,  and  turned  away.  One  hand  was  on  his 
aching  brow,  and  the  other  lifted  in  a  hopeless 
gesture. 

Presently  his  manhood  returned  and  he  said 
huskily :  "  Forgive  me,  my  pure  one,  if  I  have 
scared  you !  I  was  mad  to  so  far  forget  myself. 
Go  on !  I  will  listen  !  " 

"  You  know  then  that  —  that  she  loved  you,  — 
that  she  has  loved  you  all  the  while ! "  cried  the 
girl,    and    poignant    disappointment    was    in    her 
voice. 

He  saw  her  eyes  fill  with  tears,  and  her  lips 
tremble  uncontrollably,  and  again  his  manhood 


268  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

was  forgotten.  He  took  an  impulsive  step  for- 
ward, and  snatched  her  to  himself,  whispering : 
"Oh  darling,  even  if  I  did  know,  what  does  it 
signify!  I  might  in  a  small  degree  have  appre- 
ciated her  affection,  had  not  your  face  dawned 
upon  me.  You  are  my  fate.  Why  should  aught 
but  death  come  between  us  and  happiness,  —  aught 
but  death  ?  You  love  me,  darling !  Your  true 
eyes  tell  me  so !  Do  not  send  me  from  you,  when 
I  have  won  your  heart !  " 

By  main  force  Hazel  detached  herself  from  his 
clasp.  She  looked  at  him,  her  slender  form  drawn 
up  to  its  full  height,  her  face  flushing,  her  eyes 
flashing  with  indignation. 

"  Monsieur  Deverell,  I  have  misjudged  you.  I 
believed  in  you,  as  one  whose  integrity  was  beyond 
reproach,  as  the  stars  are  beyond  sin.  I  am 
grieved  to  learn  my  mistake,  —  that  your  estimate 
of  me  is  so  much  at  fault.  In  one  breath  you 
proclaim  me  angelic ;  the  next  you  seek  to  ensnare 
me  by  words  such  as  no  true  woman  should  listen 
to  without  shame.  I  will  take  an  oath,  that  no 
suspicion  of  Evelyn's  feelings  ever  entered  my 
heart  until  last  night.  As  my  conscience  is  now 
alive  to  what  she  suffers,  I  am  filled  with  speech- 
less guilt,  for  being  the  innocent  cause  of  her 
misery.  If  in  your  bosom  there  lives  a  compas- 
sionate feeling  for  womankind,  reflect  upon  the 
untold  pain  my  cousin  has  endured  since  you  went 
away  last  summer,  —  endured  through  you  !  Her 


THE   TEST.  269 

love  has  slowly  eaten  her  life  away.  She  lien 
at  death's  threshold,  calling  for  you.  I  would 
sacrifice  my  life  to  restore  her  happiness.  Mon- 
sieur, do  you  remember  the  day  when  you  made  a 
declaration  of  eternal  friendship  for  me  ?  Do  you 
remember  how  you  begged  me  to  look  to  you,  if 
ever  I  found  myself  in  need  of  a  true  friend  ?  " 

"  Let  me  prove  my  remembrance.  Ask  any- 
thing of  me, "came  reverently  from  the  Frenchman, 
as  he  bowed  before  her  with  uncovered  head ; 
though  he  believed  her  next  words  would  sound 
the  death-knell  of  his  joyful  hopes. 

"  That  day  has  come.  I  am  standing  alone  in  a 
forest  of  despair,  from  which  you  alone  can  lead 
me ;  but  you  can  do  it  with  a  single  brave  effort. 
Be  my  true  benefactor!  Rescue  me  from  a  life 
threatened  with  endless  darkness !  One  glimpse  of 
your  face  will  stay  the  madness  that  consumes 
Evelyn's  life.  Will  you  save  Aer,  and  make  me 
happy  ?  " 

Aubrey  suppressed  a  groan.  Trembling  in  every 
limb  he  rubbed  his  hands  across  his  forehead, 
as  if  to  smooth  out  the  wrinkles  of  his  brain,  and 
answered  :  "  Angel  of  purity,  what  you  ask  me  T 
will  grant,  though  it  tear  out  my  heart." 

Lifting  her  hand  to  his  lips  he  kissed  it  once, 
twice,  thrice,  and  added  :  "  Show  me  the  way.  I 
will  walk  in  it,  though  the  pathway  lead  to 
martyrdom.  Come,  I  am  your  slave !  Lead  me  in 
the  right  direction." 


270  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

She  smiled  and  blessed  him,  as  she  said  :  "  No, 
not  my  slave,  my  savior !  " 

With  bent  head  and  dilatory  step  he  followed 
her  to  the  house. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 
AUBREY'S  TRIAL. 

THE  past  is  past.    I  see  the  future  stretch 
All  dark  and  barren,  as  a  rainy  sea. 

ALEXANDER. 

NO  light  was  permitted  in  the  chamber  ;  but  the 
red-tongued  flames,  holding  revelry  in  the 
grate,  sent  a  ghastly  glimmer  over  the  invalid's  face. 
Evelyn's  restless  hands  twisted  the  sheet.  They 
clutched  imaginary  objects,  which  she  wrung 
hatefully.  When  these  demonstrations  ceased,  she 
sank  back  into  the  bed,  crying  out  for  Aubrey, 
as  a  wailing  child  cries  for  its  mother. 

Sometimes  she  called  in  frenzied  accents : 
"  Aubrey,  Aubrey !  Do  not  abandon  me  for  that 
designing  girl !  Tear  off  her  bridal  dress.  Deck 
me  in  her  stead.  See,"  —  touching  her  black  locks 
proudly,  —  "  orange-blossoms  will  better  grace  my 
dark  beauty.  On  her  tawny  hair  they  lose  their 
loveliness ;  they  droop  under  her  breath.  She 
will  poison  you,  when  your  lips  meet !  " 

Evelyn  was  in  the  midst  of  one  of  these  out- 
breaks when  the  door  opened  softly,  and  a  slight 
figure  moved  cautiously  across  the  room   toward 
the  window,  where  the  doctor  was  meditating. 
(271) 


272  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

Hazel  walked  carefully  around  the  room,  so  as  to 
avoid  the  sick  woman's  glance ;  but  as  by  some 
intuition  Evelyn  shrieked  out  in  painful  accents  : 
"  It  is  she!  I  tell  you,  it  is  Myrine  Seymour  /" 

Hazel  paused  a  short  distance  from  the  doctor, 
and  by  the  fitful  firelight  he  could  see  a  puzzled 
expression  come  over  her  face. 

"  I  tell  you  it  is  Myrine  Seymour  !  She  has 
come  to  give  me  up  to  justice ! "  raved  the 
demented  woman. 

The  look  of  bewilderment  deepened  on  Hazel's 
face.  She  went  to  Doctor  Weaver  and  whispered  : 
"  Whom  does  she  mean  ?  " 

"  I  can  not  tell  you,  my  little  girl.  Perhaps  she 
refers  to  one  of  her  friends.  Do  n't  you  know 
anyone  of  that  name  ?  " 

"  I  know  a  Myrtle  Seymour ;  but  Myrine  — 
Myrine,"  —  dwelling  upon  the  beautiful  name  as 
though  she  loved  to  repeat  it,  —  "I  never  knew 
anyone  by  that  name.  I  never  heard  it  but  once 
or  twice  in  my  life,  and  then  —  then  my  old  nurse 
applied  it  to  me  !  " 

After  a  moment's  silence  Hazel  spoke  again  : 
"  Doctor  ! "  Her  expression  changed,  and  it  was 
plain  to  Doctor  Weaver  that  she  wished  to  say 
something  important. 

"  Well  ?  "  he  asked  encouragingly. 

"  I  was  forgetting !  I  came  in  to  say  that  a 
gentleman  wants  to  speak  with  you  in  the  entry, 
just  there,  outside  the  door,  —  Monsieur  Aubrey 
Deverell ! " 


AUBREY'S   TRIAL.  273 

"  Aubrey  ?  "  repeated  the  doctor  in  an  astonished 
whisper.  "Can  it  be  the  Aubrey  for  whom  my 
patient  calls  so  often  ?  " 

"  It  is  the  same,"  returned  the  girl  calmly. 

'•  This  is  a  godsend ! "  she  heard  the  physician 
exclaim,  as  he  abruptly  left  her  side. 

Hazel  herself  did  not  tarry  in  the  chamber,  but 
went  out  through  Evelyn's  dressing-room,  for  her 
cousin's  ravings  were  unbearable ;  yet  a  smile 
transfigured  Hazel's  expression  into  one  of  saint- 
liness,  when  she  pictured  to  herself  the  scene  that 
must  ensue  when  Evelyn  awoke  to  the  conscious- 
ness of  her  lover's  presence. 

"  What  will  her  thoughts  be  of  me  ? "  she 
wondered.  "Will  her  prejudice  vanish,  or  will 
her  happiness  make  her  forget  me  altogether?  If 
there  is  any  womanly  sentiment  in  her  she  will 
repent  her  misunderstanding.  To  see  her  smile, 
to  hear  her  say,  '  I  have  wronged  you,  Hazel,  and 
I  am  sorry,'  would  be  enough !  I  might  then  look 
for  some  compensation  for  all  I  have  suffered.  In 
the  light  of  her  confidence,  I  may  forget  my  heart's 
sacrifice,  —  its  lost  hope.  A  deeper  joy  may  find 
its  way  into  my  life,  which  seems  so  barren  without 
Mm." 

"  Aubrey !  Aubrey !  " 

"  I  am  here,  Mademoiselle  Evelyn.  Have 
courage !  " 

He  stood  beside  the  bed,  looking  down  upon  the 


274  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

delirious  woman  in  pity  blended  with  rigor;  yet 
on  his  brow  was  the  peace  of  resignation. 

His  voice  had  its  old  magic  effect  upon  the 
invalid.  She  raised  herself'  on  one  elbow,  and 
gazed  upon  him.  During  a  brief  and  unbroken 
silence  her  eyes  never  left  his  face,  but  rested  now 
upon  his  dark  mustache,  now  upon  his  white  brow. 
She  then  looked  at  the  hand  which  clasped  hers 
gently,  as  it  lay  listlessly  outside  the  coverlet. 

"  Have  courage,  mademoiselle.  I  shall  stay 
with  you  till  you  are  strong  again.  Be  troubled 
not,  but  rest  —  sleep  !  " 

"  Bend  down  ! "  commanded  the  sick  woman,  in 
a  voice  strangely  subdued .  "  Is  it  really  Aubrey, 
in  the  flesh  ?  I  have  stayed  here  at  the  window 
hours,  waiting  for  you.  Noel  said  he  had  seen 
you  with  Hazel,  —  that  you  were  married  ?  Is  it 
true?  Is  it  true?" 

She  stared  at  him,  and  drove  her  nails  into  his 
palm  so  that  he  felt  the  pain.  He  bent  down, 
however,  until  he  felt  her  breath  upon  his  face. 
Then  her  fingers  twined  in  his  hair,  and  a  hot 
touch  was  on  his  head.  He  scarcely  dared  trust 
himself  to  meet  her  glance  again,  lest  his  courage 
forsake  him. 

Presently  she  spoke  :  "  Kiss  me  !  I  shall  riot  be 
satisfied  until  you  have  kissed  me,  Aubrey !  Ah, 
you  hesitate  !  Now  I  am  convinced !  I  am  the 
victim  of  a  sham ! " 

Her  voice  ended  in  a  scream.     She  thrust  him 


AUBREY'S   TRIAL.  275 

from  her  with  both  hands,  and  tore  the  counter- 
pane wildly.  Seeing  the  folly  of  weakness  he 
again  approached  her.  "  Evelyn,  for  your  own 
sake,  try  to  calm  yourself." 

"  Calm  myself  !  Calm  myself  !  What,  in  this 
prison,  —  doomed  to  death  by  her  hand?  They 
have  hunted  me  down;  they  have  — 

Suddenly  her  mood  changed.  "Come  nearer, 
warden ! "  she  whispered.  "  I  have  a  secret  to  tell 
you." 

Yielding  to  this  new  caprice  Aubrey  drew  a 
chair  to  the  bedside,  and  bent  his  ear  close  to 
her  lips.  He  waited  for  Evelyn  to  speak  again. 
Wondering  at  her  continued  silence  he  at  first 
moved  his  head  in  mute  interrogation,  and  then 
sprang  to  his  feet  in  consternation.  She  lay  with 
head  thrown  back  and  arms  outstretched,  in  death- 
like stillness.  He  hastily  called  Doctor  Weaver, 
who  was  waiting  in  the  hall. 

The  swoon  was  long,  but  at  the  doctor's  request 
Aubrey  remained  within  hearing.  It  was  well  he 
did  so,  for  no  sooner  did  Evelyn  open  her  eyes 
than  her  lips  again  formed  the  one  name :  "Au- 
brey, I  want  Aubrey !  " 

The  doctor  again  gave  place  to  the  Frenchman, 
who  came  hurriedly  to  the  bedside.  She  looked 
rationally  into  his  face ;  but  the  hand  she  tried  to 
reach  out  to  him  fell  listlessly.  Tears  gathered  in 
her  eyes,  the  first  since  her  illness,  —  nay,  since  a 
long  time  before.  Aubrey  tried  to  soothe  her,  and 
finally  succeeded. 


276  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

"  I  thought  you  had  gone  out  of  my  life  forever," 
she  said.  "  How  comes  it  you  are  here  ?  " 

"  Because  of  your  illness.  —  Now  I  bid  you  rest. 
Rest  is  essential  to  your  recovery ;  and  recover  you 
must,  — for  my  sake  !  " 

These  three  words  cost  him  a  mighty  effort ;  but 
they  were  said,  and  their  effect  was  magical.  The 
sick  girl's  fingers  closed  over  his;  and  presently, 
with  one  blissful  sigh,  she  passed  into  slumberland. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

>s 
FAITHFUL    UXTO    DEATH. 

We  have  been  friends  together, 
In  sunshine  and  in  shade. 

C.  E.  S.  N. 

NOTWITHSTANDING  the  fever  had  been 
checked  in  its  earliest  stages,  November 
was  waning  before  Evelyn  was  pronounced  suffi- 
ciently convalescent  to  leave  her  apartments ;  but 
she  gave  little  heed  to  the  lapse  of  time.  Whether 
a  day,  a  week,  or  a  month  had  passed,  since  she 
basked  once  more  in  the  light  of  Aubrey's  smiles, 
was  immaterial  to  her.  Her  knight  was  there  to 
prove  her  visions  real. 

She  had  consented  to  drive  with  him  one  morn- 
ing, in  accordance  with  the  doctor's  advice,  and 
advanced  to  greet  her  betrothed  when  he  crossed 
the  threshold.  As  he  pressed -one  of  her  hands 
lightly  to  his  lips,  her  worn  face  was  transfigured 
with  a  lovelight  which  made  it  indeed  beautiful. 
No  trace  of  the  old  hardness  was  visible  in  the 
countenance  uplifted  in  gratitude  for  the  bunch  of 
exquisite  flowers  he  had  brought  from  a  Jasper 
conservatory. 

Aubrey  could  not  help  wondering  how  treason 
(277) 


278  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

could  ever  dwell  where  now  righteousness  only 
seemed  to  abide.  He  found  himself  wishing  to 
erase  his  knowledge  of  her  evil-mindedness,  and 
undividedly  consecrate  himself  to  her  happiness; 
but  this  could  never  be.  What  had  been  was 
written  indelibly  on  the  pages  of  memory.  As  he 
helped  her  on  with  her  wraps  he  compressed  his 
lips  into  a  hard  smile,  saying  to  himself:  "The 
past  is  moulded.  That  invincible  priest  called  Prov- 
idence has  decreed  this  faulty  piece  of  humanity  to 
be  mine,  and  I  must  bow  in  self-abnegation." 

"  I  hope  you  are  dressed  warm  enough,"  he  said 
aloud,  as  he  lifted  her  into  the  carriage.  "  Even 
here,  in  this  tropical  clime,  one  must  be  prepared 
for  frosty  snaps." 

The  beautiful  grays  pranced  gaily  away,  and  were 
soon  dashing  along  the  open  country  road,  toward 
Fairacre.  The  last  time  Evelyn  had  driven  with 
him,  over  this  same  quiet  highway,  her  hopes  were 
levelled  with  the  dust.  Now  they  were  exalted  to 
the  skies,  for  she  was  the  promised  wife  of  the  man 
who  sat  beside  her.  What  a  world  of  meaning  in 
those  three  words,  his  promised  wife.  They  gave 
the  world  a  new  garb,  such  as  she  had  never  believed 
could  exist  outside  of  Paradise. 

"  I  have  been  born  again,"  Evelyn  told  herself, 
as  they  traversed  the  white  road  through  the  forest. 
"  My  heart  beats  with  devout  love  for  all  nature. 
Why  have  I  never  before  been  so  impressed  with 
the  stateliness  of  these  pines,  and  their  varied 


FAITHFUL    UNTO  DEATH.  279 

wood-coloring?  Why  are  the  notes  of  the  birds 
so  sweet?  It  is  the  magic  of  love!  Love  has 
transformed  these  monotonous  fields  into  a  verit- 
able Eden ! " 

What  of  him  who  sat  beside  her  ?  Where  were 
the  hopes  which  had  made  his  life  so  golden? 
His  youth,  his  vivacity,  his  reverence  for  the  in- 
exhaustible beauties  of  nature,  —  how  had  they 
vanished  so  abruptly?  Where  was  his  aspiration, 
his  ambition?  Alas,  he  now  lived  in  listless 
unconcern  for  the  future.  Providence  had  torn 
from  his  heart  the  image  graven  there.  Aubrey 
had  waked  from  a  dream  of  bliss,  to  find  himself 
ensnared  in  trammels  he  had  regarded  with 
abhorrence. 

Honor  bound  him  to  Evelyn,  bound  him  to  her 
indissolubly ;  and  his  heart  cried  out  in  rebellion. 
Thus  he  pondered  :  "  Oh  the  unpardonable  cruelty 
of  Fate !  How  could  it  smite  one  who  loves  with 
such  devotion  as  mine  !  " 

Did  Evelyn  surmise  aught  of  this  despair  ?  Nay! 
It  was  enough  that  he  came  into  her  presence  daily, 
that  he  read  to  her,  that  he  brought  her  flowers, 
that  he  kissed  her  hand,  that  he  inquired  solicit- 
ously after  her  welfare.  She  saw  him  through 
worshipful  eyes.  She  believed  he  had  come  back 
into  her  life  of  his  own  accord;  and  this  was 
enough. 

She  seldom  thought  of  the  unknown  medium  of 
this  reunion.  If  in  a  moment  of  contrition  her 


280  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

mind  turned  to  Hazel,  she  decided  to  seek  an 
early  interview,  when  they  might  be  reconciled. 
Thereupon  would  follow  a  mental  conflict  between 
pride  and  remorse ;  and  Evelyn  would  swerve  from 
her  good  purpose,  which  must  involve  a  forfeiture 
of  her  dignity.  Then  she  resolved  to  compromise 
the  matter,  and  make  amends  by  kinder  treatment 
of  her  foster-sister. 

The  tragic  scene  between  herself  and  Hazel  was 
completely  obliterated  from  her  recollection  by  the 
fever.  She  recalled  nothing  of  her  frantic  pursuit 
of  her  cousin,  nor  of  the  painful  interview  which 
followed. 

One  day,  while  looking  over  her  wardrobe, 
Evelyn  suddenly  came  across  her  lavender  silk. 
The  lace  was  torn  and  the  train  was  soiled.  For 
a  moment  she  was  puzzled.  Then  she  peremptorily 
summoned  Phebe. 

"Can  you  account  for  this?"  questioned  the 
mistress,  as  she  held  the  injured  dress  before  the 
surprised  girl. 

"  No,  Missy  Eb'lyn,"  rejoined  Phebe,  retreating 
before  her  mistress's  accusing  demeanor. 

"  Do  n't  prevaricate !  You  must  know  how  my 
dress  come  to  be  ruined.  Look  !  "  Evelyn  held 
the  folds  of  her  ill-fated  finery  nearer,  so  that  the 
girl  could  get  a  better  view.  "  Tell  me  the  truth, 
Phebe.  How  did  this  mud  come  on  my  train  ? 
How  was  this  lace  torn  ?  " 

"  'Deed,  Missy  Eb'lyn,  I    can 't  say,  honey !  — 


FAITHFUL    UNTO  DEATH.  281 

I  can  't  say's  I  know  how  all  dat  dirt  come  on  de 
bottom,  'n  how  cle  lace  got  tored.  'T  war  in  dat  ar 
condistion  de  mo'nin'  I  found  ye  in  a  heap,  heah 
on  de  flo'.  I  's  done  puzzle  my  topknot  more'n 
a  little  'bout  de  way  you  come  all  dress  up,  un' 
lyin'  like  stone  dead,  wid  you'  hah  all  down,  un' 
you  close  in  such  a  way  — 

"Don't  try  to  shield  your  cunning  with  my 
illness.  I  understand  I  was  found  in  my  own 
room,  in  an  •  unconscious  condition  ;  but  in  this 
dress  ?  —  Preposterous  !  Do  n't  seek  to  mislead 
me,  Phebe  !  You  have  evidently  taken  advantage 
of  my  sickness,  to  wear  this  dress  at  some  of  your 
darkey  frolics.  You  may  as  well  confess !  " 

The  girl  drew  back  in  scorn,  the  indignant  blood 
surging  beneath  her  tawny  skin.  Seeing  the 
defiant  look  Evelyn  became  more  deliberate. 
She  had  certainly  never  known  the  young  mulatto 
guilty  of  such  impertinence.  It  dawned  upon 
Evelyn  that  she  might  give  her  servant  the  benefit 
of  the  doubt,  inasmuch  as  her  own  memory  of  that 
night  was  a  blank. 

Suddenly  that  scene  came  rushing  back  to  her 
brain,  like  a  lightning  flash.  In  a  dazed  way  she 
put  her  hand  to  her  eyes,  as  if  to  think.  Again 
she  saw  that  vision  of  herself  in  the  mirror,  arrayed 
in  lavender,  with  the  diamonds  in  her  ears  and  on 
her  fingers. 

Presently  she  said?»to  the  maid  :  "  I  have  been 
hasty,  Phebe.  I  remember  putting  on  this  dress 


282  THE  DEA  TH  TR  US T. 

now.  It  was  the  night  before  I  was  taken  ill. 
The  occurrence  is  faint,  almost  indistinct  to  me, 
and  I  do  not  remember  what  followed.  I  may 
have  wandered  into  the  garden,  under  the  spell  of 
coming  delirium.  You  can  never  know  how 
troubled  and  miserable  I  was." 

To  conceal  her  embarrassment  she  burst  out 
laughing,  and  then  added,  by  way  of  atonement  : 
"I  only  meant  to  tease  you  a  little!  You  have 
always  been  an  obedient  girl,  never  giving  cause 
for  fault-finding.  I  will  make  you  a  present  of 
this  dress.  Take  it,  and  let  your  best  beau  see 
how  you  can  grace  the  next  ball.  Now  go,  and 
return  to  me  at  two  o'clock.  I  shall  want  you  to 
arrange  my  hair." 

Phebe  would  have  lingered  to  speak  her 
gratitude,  but  her  mistress  turned  away,  so  the 
girl  straightway  left  the  room;  but  once  in  the 
hall,  beyond  observation,  she  made  all  sorts  of 
grimaces  over  her  new  frock,  which  she  declared, 
in  a  stage  whisper,  would  "  fairly  stan'  alone,  and 
make  Dixy  Sloane  turn  green  with  jealous." 

It  was  late  in  the  forenoon  when  the  young 
couple  returned  from  their  drive.  As  they  walked 
through  the  gate,  it  was  plain  that  something 
unusual  had  occurred  during  their  absence.  On 
the  lawn  the  servants  were  assembled,  with 
troubled  countenances ;  while  beyond  stood  Mrs. 
Ormsby,  close  beside  Hazel,  who  was  in  a  kneeling 


FAITHFUL    UNTO  DEATH.  283 

posture,  her    head    bowed    over    something  dark 
stretched  on  the  grass. 

"Aubrey,  what  can  be  the  meaning  of  this 
excitement  among  the  servants  ?  There  are  Hazel 
and  Mrs.  Ormsby !  Pardon  me,  dearest,  if  I  run 
and  see." 

Evelyn  hastened  on,  leaving  her  companion  to 
follow.  As  he  drew  nearer  he  could  hear  Hazel 
weeping  bitterly.  A  spasm  of  pain  passed  over  his 
face  when  he  noted  the  cause  of  her  sorrow. 
There,  on  the  green  sward,  he  saw  her  beautiful 
Bijou,  —  dead.  His  black  coat  was  wet.  In  the 
silvered  clasp  of  his  collar  was  entangled  a  limp 
water-leaf. 

Evelyn  turned  toward  her  lover  as  he  approached, 
and  said,  in  an  undertone  :  "  Only  think,  Aubrey, 
—  how  dreadful!  Bijou,  Hazel's  great  Saint 
Bernard,  is  dead, —  drowned  in  the  lake,  it  seems." 

He  noticed  that  her  face  was  ghastly,  while  a 
hunted  look  came  into  her  eyes.  She  could  not 
bear  his  questioning  gaze,  but  turned  quickly  away, 
ostensibly  to  console  the  mourner. 

"  Come  Hazel,"  she  said  entreatingly,  "  come 
with  me  into  the  house.  We  all  sympathize  with 
you,  but  grief  can 't  recall  the  poor  fellow." 

A  smothered  sob  was  at  first  the  only  response. 
At  last  Hazel  said:  "I  can't  give  him  up,  —  my 
one  faithful  friend  !  We  have  loved  each  other 
so !  We  were  always  together.  In  happiness  and 
in  trouble  he  was  my  companion !  " 


284  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

With  unsteady  fingers  Evelyn  disengaged  the 
leaf  from  the  dog's  collar.  It  seemed  to  mock 
her !  Crushing  it  in  her  hand  she  threw  it  away. 
Then  she  whispered  to  her  foster-sister,  so  that  no 
one  else  distinguished  the  words:  "I  will  love  you 
now !  Let  me  love  you  now,  Hazel !  Let  all  the 
past  be  forgotten  from  this  moment !  Let  us  try 
to  be  happy  in  each  other's  friendship." 

The  next  second  Hazel  was  on  her  feet,  with 
arms  outstretched.  "  Evelyn,  oh  Evelyn  !  Surely 
you  can  not  be  in  earnest ! "  cried  she  incredu- 
lously, yet  with  a  countenance  beaming  like  the 
sun  through  a  veil  of  mist.  "It  is  what  I  have 
been  hoping,  praying  for ;  yet  it  can  not  be  true ! 
You  can 't  wish  to  give  me  your  love  !  " 

For  an  answer  Evelyn  pressed  her  lips  lightly 
upon  the  girl's  wet  cheek,  and  placed  a  comforting 
arm  about  her  waist.  Aubrey  looked  on  spell- 
bound, while  the  servants  went  slowly  away, 
wondering. 


CPIAPTER   XXXV. 

RETROSPECTIVE    AND    PROSPECTIVE. 

AND  my  soul  from  out  the  shadow 
Shall  be  lifted  nevermore. 

FOB. 

OH  heart,  count  not  too  high  thy  summer  days. 

"  TTAZEL,  I  will  go  with  you  to  your  room.     I 

li  want  to  tell  you  about  my  plans,"  said 
Evelyn  the  following  morning. 

"  Before  we  enter  upon  other  topics,"  she 
continued,  when  they  were  comfortably  seated 
together,  "tell  me  all  about  poor  Bijou.  I  have 
heard  no  particulars.  How  did  he  meet  his  death, 
—  and  by  water,  too  ?  " 

Evelyn  toyed  restlessly  with  the  silken  tassel  of 
her  gown  as  she  spoke,  yet  she  looked  anxiously 
at  Hazel.  It  was  a  moment  before  the  little 
cousin  could  bring  herself  to  speak  of  her  loss; 
but  at  last  she  turned  her  head  towards  the 
garden,  to  hide  her  emotion,  and  told  the  story. 

" 1  had  to  go  down  to  the  lake  yesterday.  I  had 
accidently  left  a  book  there,  and  wanted  to  get  it. 
It  was  Owen  Meredith's  Lucile.  Bijou  followed 
me  as  usual.  Just  before  we  reached  the  willows 
he  bounded  ahead.  The  next  moment,  to  my 
(285) 


286  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

astonishment,  I  saw  him  plunge  into  the  cold 
water,  and  swim  toward  a  lily-patch.  I  watched 
him  closely,  for  Noel  had  told  me  that  the  dear 
fellow  had  a  recent  mania  for  these  plunges,  and 
would  invariably  make  his  way  to  this  particular 
spot.  It  is  only  a  month  ago  since  Noel  one 
day  rescued  him  from  drowning,  when  he  became 
entangled  in  the  roots.  Well,  suddenly  I  saw  him 
disappear.  It  must  have  been  full  sixty  seconds 
before  he  came  up.  Then  he  looked  at  me,  barked 
three  or  four  times,  and  dived  once  more.  The 
minutes  passed,  and  I  saw  nothing  more  of  my 
darling  Bijou,  —  only  a  violent  commotion  of  the 
water,  which  indicated  a  struggle  below.  I  tried 
to  call  for  assistance,  but  I  do  n't  think  a  sound 
escaped  me.  I  don't  know  how  long  I  stood 
there,  but  all  at  once  I  saw  a  dark  mass  floating 
toward  me.  Nearer  and  nearer  it  came,  till  I 
had  only  to  stretch  out  my  arm  and  touch  it. 
Then  I  must  have  screamed  aloud.  Bijou  was 
drowned !  His  once  beautiful  eyes  were  devoid 
of  expression,  and  stared  at  me  in  an  awful  way. 
It  was  a  sight  to  remain  in  memory  always." 

She  paused,  quite  overcome,  and  laid  her  head 
upon  the  window-sill.  Had  she  seen  her  cousin's 
face  at  that  moment  Hazel  would  have  been 
thoroughly  perplexed.  Evelyn  was  grateful  for 
the  child's  grief,  as  it  afforded  a  refuge  for  her 
own  feelings.  While  Hazel  sobbed,  Evelyn's  hands 
lay  interlaced  tightly  in  her  lap,  for  the  suspense 
was  almost  intolerable. 


RETROSPECTIVE  AND  PROSPECTIVE.  287 

"  Well,  Hazel,  I  am  listening,"  she  muttered. 

"  There  is  nothing  more  to  relate,  except  that  1 
dragged  the  poor  fellow  from  the  water,  placed 
him  on  the  grass,  and  ran  to  the  house  for  help." 

"  And  those  mysterious  plunges,  —  their  motive  ? 
Have  you  any  idea  about  that  ?  " 

"  Not  the  slightest.  I  heard  Noel  say  he  meant 
to  drag  that  part  of  the  lake.  He  thinks  there 
must  be  something  buried  there.  Dogs  have  such 
an  instinct  about  such  things,  you  know." 

Hearing  a  low  gasp  from  her  foster-sister  Hazel 
looked  up  quickly.  "  Evelyn,  what  is  it  ?  You  are 
ill  again!  You  have  exerted  yourself  too  much." 

"  It  is  nothing,"  said  Evelyn  faintly,  "  nothing 
but  a  sharp  pain  here,"  —  indicating  her  heart.  "  I 
have  had  such  a  pain  frequently  since —  since  — 
since  they  died." 

To  herself  she  added  :  "  I  shall  keep  a  sharp 
lookout  that  the  lake  is  not  meddled  with." 

Hazel  said  that  Noel  would  dig  a  grave  beneath 
the  willows,  whore  the  dog  and  she  had  passed  so 
many  hours  together ;  and  then  the  conversation 
drifted  from  the  past  to  the  future. 

"  In  my  new  prospects,"  said  Evelyn,  "  I  have 
seen  my  past  life  in  what  a  poet  calls  the  hollow 
mirror  of  remorse.  My  conscience  has  not  been  an 
affable  companion  during  the  past  few  weeks.  My 
pride  might  have  stood  its  ground,  but  for  yester- 
day's catastrophe.  I  know  I  have  wronged  you 
in  my  thoughts,  Hazel.  I  can  never  make  due 


288  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

reparation  for  the  taunts  with  which  I  have 
humiliated  you.  Pride  has  been  the  household 
foe  of  our  Weldon  race ;  and  I  should  perhaps 
have  followed  in  the  footsteps  of  my  ancestors, 
and  let  it  change  me  into  gall,  but  for  this  chance. 
Yes,  chance  has  led  me  blindfold  to  the  altar  of 
contrition.  Full  well  I  know  the  generous  nature 
to  which  I  appeal.  I  was  not  surprised  at  the  joy 
in  your  face,  dear  Hazel,  when  I  asked  you  to 
forget  the  past ;  yet  do  not  think  I  can  take 
advantage  of  your  forgiving  spirit,  and  consider 
the  breach  entirely  healed,  for  this  can  never  be. 
I  have  wronged  you  irrevocably,  and  shall  always 
be  pricked  by  accusing  conscience  in  your  presence. 
I  must  look  up  to  you,  as  a  sinful  woman  must  look 
up  to  one  beyond  reproach." 

She  broke  off  with  a  dry  sob,  which  roused  new 
compassion  in  Hazel,  who  flung  herself  upon  her 
knees  before  Evelyn. 

"  Why  do  you  accuse  yourself  of  having  sinned 
beyond  redemption  ?  Is  it  not  enough  that  I  have 
forgiven  you,  —  forgiven  you  tenfold  ?  That  we 
might  be  bound  together  in  friendship  has  been 
my  constant  prayer.  Now  that  this  prayer  is 
granted,  why  should  we  not  both  be  above  regret  ? 
You  have  Monsieur  Aubrey,  —  a  king  amongst 
noble  men.  I  have  you,  —  you  and  your  love! 
Is  not  this  enough  ?  " 

"  That  I  have  Aubrey  is  bliss  indeed ;  but,"  «he 
added,  with  a  sensibility  new  to  Hazel, "  there  is  a 


RETROSPECTIVE  AS D  PROSPECTIVE.  289 

shadow  on    my  soul  which  will   not  be  lifted !  — 
Child,  child,  rise!      Don't   kneel!     I   can't  bear 
it!" 

Hazel  arose.  She  was  filled  with  fear  lest 
Evelyn  was  threatened  with  a  relapse  of  the  fever  ; 
but  she  was  reassured  when  her  foster-sister  bade 
her  be  seated,  and  listen  while  she  spoke  of  the 
future. 

"  My  marriage  has  been  arranged  for  the  twenty- 
fifth  of  next  month,  —  Christmas,"  she  resumed, 
growing  animated,  as  thoughts  of  coming  happi- 
ness revived.  "  I  have  made  Aunt  Lydia  and  Uncle 
Seymour  acquainted  with  my  plans,  and  expect 
them,  with  Myrtle,  by  the  fifteenth,  if  not  earlier. 
You  are  pleased  ?  Yes,  I  knew  you  would  be.  You 
and  Myrtle  will  be  nice  companions.  I  intend 
to  have  you  both  for  bridemaids.  My  wedding  will 
be  without  display,  on  account  of  our  mourning ;  I 
shall  send  no  invitations,  except  to  immediate  rela- 
tives ;  yet,  as  the  date  will  mark  three  events  in 
one,  I  shall  expect  it  to  be  a  memorable  and  happy 
time.  I  say  three  events  in  one,  because  on  Christ- 
mas night  Uncle  Elmer  Weldon  will  be  installed 
as  future  master  of  the  Grange.  This  was  a  re- 
quest of  my  father  to  his  lawyer.  He  did  not 
wish  the  home  of  his  ancestors  to  pass  into  strange 
hands,  should  I  ever  leave  it»  I  shall  feel  no  regret 
in  resigning  our  beautiful  place  to  a  master  so 
worthy  as  Uncle  Elmer,  for  he  and  his  two  sons 
will  maintain  it  creditably.  Fairacre,  by  papa's 


290  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

will,  will  come  to  you  at  your  majority.  Till  then 
Uncle  Elmer  will  be  your  guardian;  so  it  is  for 
your  interest,  as  well  as  for  mine,  to  have  him 
established  here,  as  he  will  see  your  estate  well 
cared  for,  at  least  till  you  marry,  or  come  of  age. 
Meanwhile,  you  can  make  it  your  home  with  Aunt 
Lydia,  as  you  wish." 

"  Oh  Evelyn ! "  interrupted  Hazel,  unable  to 
listen  composedly  a  moment  longer.  "Heaven 
itself  seems  suddenly  to  open  before  me.  You 
have  set  the  bright  gates  ajar  with  your  own  hands, 
and  that  is  more  than  I  can  realize ! " 

"Myrtle's  governess  has  returned  recently  to 
England,"  added  Evelyn,  disturbed  by  Hazel's 
words,  though  outwardly  calm.  "Ah,"  thought 
she,  "  if  Hazel  dreamed  how  much  nearer  Heaven 
I  could  place  her ! " 

Then  she  continued:  "Myrtle's  governess  has 
returned  to  England,  and  I  have  been  thinking 
how  pleasant  it  would  be  for  both  you  girls  to 
have  Arline  in  New  Orleans.  Your  personal  at- 
tachment to  her  would  of  course  make  you  regret 
a  separation.  I  have  referred  the  matter  to  Aunt 
Lydia.  I  am  sure  she  will  highly  commend 
the  arrangement.  —  Almost  ten  o'clock  ?  I  am 
expecting  Aubrey  at  ten,  so  I  must  get  ready  for 
our  drive,  —  the  last  for  some  time,  as  he  goes 
to  New  Orleans  tomorrow.  Come  to  me  on  our 
return,  and  you  and  I  will  discuss  your  dress 
for  the  wedding." 


RETROSPECTIVE  AND  PROSPECTIVE.  291 

Touching  Hazel's  pure  brow  with  her  lips  Evelyn 
sailed  from  the  room,  leaving  the  girl  silent  with 
new-found  pleasure.  Long  she  remained  by  the 
window  after  Evelyn  and  her  betrothed  had  driven 
away.  How  intently  did  this  womanly  child  listen 
to  the  song  in  her  heart :  "  Myrtle  is  coming ! 
Myrtle  is  coming!  We  two  as  Evelyn's  bride- 
maids  !  Myrtle  and  I  to  be  inseparable ! " 

The  day  set  in  triumphal  flashes,  dispelling  all 
fears  of  the  brooding  storm.  Like  a  benediction, 
soft-tinted  shadows  fell  athwart  the  graves  at 
Cypress  Dell,  and  over  the  golden  hair  of  a  maiden 
who  had  gone  thither  to  whisper  to  her  departed 
loved  ones  her  new  joy. 


CHAPTER   XXXV. 

DEVERELL    HALL. 

THERE  is  occasion  and  cause,  why  and  wherefore, 
in  all  things. 

SHAKESPEARE. 

THROUGH   the    day  the  cold  rain  had  been 
falling  in  New  Orleans;  but  toward  night- 
fall the  down-pour  ceased,  giving  place  to  a  cutting 
wind,  which  froze  the  sodden  roadway  and  inter- 
fered with  the  flickering  duty  of  the  street  lamps. 

About  the  steamer  -  landing  the  prospect  was 
forbidding  enough.  Shrill  steam  -  whistles  and 
the  lusty  cry  of  five-and-twenty  hotel-drummers 
mingled  in  deafening  chorus.  In  conjunction  with 
the  impenetrable  gloom  and  the  angry  roar  of  the 
waters,  this  noise  might  well  dishearten  the  tired 
and  shivering  passengers  who  thronged  the  dock. 

Among  these  was  Aubrey,  who  found  himself 
drifting  with  a  stream  of  miscellaneous  humanity, 
now  jostled  against  a  burly  negro,  now  treading 
on  some  demoiselle's  toes,  and  almost  grating  his 
teeth  over  her  exclamations.  He  fairly  wished 
himself  in  Jericho  when  a  young  Creole  begged 
him  to  have  regard  for  her  babe,  which  he  was 
heartlessly  squeezing. 

Monsieur  might  as  well  look  for  the  King  of 
(292) 


DEVERELL  HALL.  293 

Mardigras  in  that  crowd,  as  for  his  coachman, 
whom  he  had  telegraphed  to  meet  him ;  and  the 
young  master-  felt  out  of  temper,  as  he  wondered 
what  transit  he  could  find  for  Deverell  Hall,  in 
case  Joice  was  not  on  hand. 

Once  clear  of  the  crowd  Aubrey  stood  looking 
about  him,  when  a  hand  fell  heavily  upon  his 
shoulder  and  he  felt  his  portmanteau  snatched 
rudely  from  his  grasp.  "  The  Laclede  Hotel  ? 
Right  this  way !  Follow  me !  The  only  first- 
class  —  Holy  Saints  !  w 

The  tooter  had  mistaken  his  man  for  once. 
At  least  he  so  concluded,  when  his  parrot  speech 
was  abruptly  snapped  by  a  smart  blow  from  the 
Frenchman's  fist,  causing  the  man  to  drop  his  prey 
in  a  twinkling,  and  stagger  backward  to  recover 
his  breath. 

"  Ruffian !  Mind  you  make  no  such  attacks  in 
future,  lest  you  be  dealt  with  as  you  deserve," 
exclaimed  Deverell,  as  he  repossessed  himself  of 
his  valise. 

"  Pardon,  monsieur  ! "  returned  the  fellow  dog- 
gedly, as  he  managed  to  lose  himself  in  the  crowd, 
—  none  the  wiser  for  his  recent  defeat,  however. 

Having  regained  his  self-possession  Aubrey 
moved  on,  bent  upon  finding  a  cab,  if  one  was  to 
be  had  at  any  price ;  but  he  had  gone  only  a  few 
steps  when  again  he  was  arrested,  this  time  by  a 
familiar  voice,  with  a  strong  cockney  accent : 
"  Mounseer  Deverhall,  I  thought  ye  'ad  n't  harrived 


294  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

has  wuz  expected.  I  wuz  jest  hon  the  point  hof 
drivin'  back  to  the  'All,  when  hall  on  a  suddint 
I  seed  ye  from  the  kerridge-box.  This  way, 
mounseer ! " 

"  Good  !  I  thought  you  had  missed  my  tele- 
gram, Joice.  It  is  so  thundering  dark  one  can't 
see  a  foot  ahead.  —  Yes,  I  'm  all  right.  Take 
the  shortest  cuts  and  drive  fast !  I  'm  hungry  and 
chilled !  "  Aubrey  closed  the  door  with  a  bang, 
drew  the  silk  shades,  to  shut  out  the  dismal  air 
and  prospect,  and  settled  himself  for  a  tedious 
drive,  over  miles  of  rough  roads. 

Notwithstanding  Joice  took  the  shortest  way, 
it  seemed  hours  before  the  carriage  finally  halted. 
Bright  lights  shone  from  many  a  window,  and 
cheered  Aubrey  with  their  welcoming  rays;  but 
before  ascending  to  the  front  door  he  glanced 
toward  a  certain  suite  of  rooms  in  the  east  wing, 
as  if  to  ascertain  whether  they  were  occupied.  A 
light  answered  his  look  in  the  affirmative,  and  he 
mounted  the  steps  with  a  pleased  exclamation. 

Having  duly  greeted  his  housekeeper,  an  aged 
Creole  of  aristocratic  bearing,  who  had  served  the 
Deverells  through  three  generations,  he  mounted 
to  the  second  floor,  where  were  situated  the  rooms 
just  alluded  to. 

He  entered  without  warning,  and  saw,  at  a  table 
strewn  with  miscellaneous  reading-matter,  a  young 
man,  whose  fair  hair  and  frank  eyes  may  be  recog- 
nized as  belonging  to  Wilford  Hylton. 


DEVERELL  HALL.  295 

"  Well  Hylton,  old  boy,"  exclaimed  Aubrey 
cheerily,  "I  am  glad  to  find  you  still  domiciled 
at  the  Hall  —  shut  up,  as  Shakespeare  says,  in 
measureless  content ;  yet  I  confess  it  is  a  pleasure 
I  hardly  dared  anticipate,  after  my  cavalier  treat- 
ment of  you." 

It  may  be  well  here  to  explain  that,  on  returning 
from  the  West,  Deverell  had  insisted  that  his 
companion  should  take  up  his  quarters  at  the  Hall 
for  a  time  ;  and  then  Aubrey  had  immediately 
departed  for  Florida,  simply  saying  that  private 
matters  necessitated  his  absence. 

"Another  twenty-four  hours  would  have  shaken 
my  faith,"  rejoined  Hilton,  as  he  grasped  his  host's 
hand.  "  Candidly,"  he  went  on  more  gravely, 
"  the  servants  have  all  come  to  regard  me  in 
the  light  of  an  impostor.  Madame  Housekeeper 
scarcely  tolerates  me.  I  verily  believe  your  pro- 
tracted absence  led  her  to  suspect  foul  play,  I 
posing  as  the  villain !  Faith,  I 'm  not  jesting! " 

Deverell  laughed.  "  If  you  are  not  jesting, 
you  have  grown  morbid  and  fanciful,  my  friend ! 
Madame  Corrilla  assures  me  she  has  not  worried 
in  the  least.  You  see  your  injustice.  Absence 
has  long  been  regarded  by  the  servants  here  as 
one  of  my  idiosyncrasies.  —  But  come,  we  will  dine, 
and  then  discuss  affairs  in  general." 

"  Firstly,"  resumed  the  young  host,  when  they 
again  sought  Wilf ord's  cheerful  quarters,  "  I  pre- 
sume you  wish  to  know  my  recent  movements,  — 


296  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

where  I  have  been,  what  doing  ?  Well,  to  condense 
a  long  chapter,  I  have  been  over  to  Florida, 
to  Weldon  Grange,  and,  —  well,  I  have  become 
engaged  to  the  daughter  of  that  house." 

"  To  Ev  —  to  —  to  Miss  Weldon  !  "  gasped 
Wilford,  stirred  by  the  shock ;  but  suddenly 
collecting  himself,  and  feigning  unconcern,  he 
added,  "I  wonder!  " 

"  You  wonder  ?  "  laughed  Aubrey  with  a  shrug. 
"  Now  soberly,  what  is  your  candid  opinion  of  my 
venture  ?  Remember,  as  somebody  says,  that  a 
generous  friend  no  cool  medium  knows." 

"Your  engagement,  was  it  one  you  had  long 
premeditated?" 

"  On  the  contrary !  When  I  took  leave  of  you, 
three  weeks  ago,  I  had  no  thought,  however 
vague,  of  asking  Mademoiselle  Weldon's  hand; 
but  I  am  a  victim  of  circumstances." 

"I  am  to  conclude  that,  seeing  the  lady's  mis- 
fortunes, you  have  been  more  in  pity  than  in  love 
with  her,"  said  Wilford,  looking  searchingly  at  his 
friend,  whose  uneasiness  he  could  not  choose  but 
note. 

"  There  is  a  why  and  wherefore  in  all  things,  as 
the  immortal  bard  has  said,"  returned  Aubrey 
presently.  "  It  is  an  affair  of  honor.  All  I  ask 
of  you  is  this  :  Do  you  not  think  my  fiancee  will 
bear  her  prospective  title  with  dignity?." 

"  With  such  grace,  such  undeniable  beauty  and 
accomplishments  as  Miss  Weldon  possesses,  she 


DEVER&LL  HALL.  297 

would  do  honor  to  a  queen's  drawing-room," 
declared  Hylton  earnestly;  and  his  face  grew  a 
shade  paler  as  he  thus  referred  to  the  woman 
whose  image  he  had  been  striving  to  efface. 

"  Good  !  Now  will  you  grace  the  nuptials  by 
acting  as  best  man  ? "  continued  Aubrey,  little 
knowing  that  he  was  adding  fuel  to  a  smothered 
flame. 

"For  what  date  is  your  marriage  appointed?" 

«  For  Christmas." 

"  Business  will  keep  me  away,  I  regret  to  say." 

"  Of  a  pressing  nature  ?  " 

"  The  most  pressing.  The  past  three  weeks  have 
not  been  altogether  a  season  of  idleness.  I  have 
stumbled  upon  an  old  friend  of  my  uncle,  one  who 
will  soon  be  a  kinsman  of  yours,  the  Honorable 
Franklin  Seymour,  who  desires  me  to  enter  his 
office." 

"  And  you  have  accepted  the  proposal  ?  " 

"  Yes,  the  compact  is  sealed.  I  shall  enter  my 
official  duties  the  first  of  the  month." 

Deverell  puffed  away  at  his  cigar  in  silence 
for  a  moment,  and  then  said,  in  a  tone  of  keen 
disappointment :  "  I  had  hoped  for  a  different  turn 
of  affairs.  I  had  planned  to  appoint  you  my 
private  adviser." 

"You  are  always  generous  and  considerate, 
Deverell." 

"  And  you,  to  balance  the  compliment,  are  devil- 
ishly hot-headed ;  else  you  would  have  waited  for 
my  return,  before  closing  this  business." 


298  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

"  I  am  grieved  at  your  displeasure,  but  I  gain  a 
footing  that  points  to  future  prosperity." 

Aubrey  softened  visibly,  and  mentally  branded 
himself  an  unmitigated  and  selfish  ass,  for  wishing 
to  consign  his  friend  to  the  narrow  sphere  of  a 
private  secretaryship. 

"At  anyrate,  we  won't  quarrel.  Let  us  com- 
promise the  matter  by  having  you  keep  your 
quarters  here.  It  will  be  preferable  to  a  bachelor 
den.  With  a  Madame  Deverell  at  the  head  of 
the  establishment  we  can  promise  you  endless 
social  pastimes,  which  will  of  themselves  aid 
your  profession." 

What  excuse  could  Hylton  make  for  declining 
this  generous  offer?  Yet  could  he  accede  to  an 
arrangement  which  would  bring  him  into  daily 
contact  with  the  woman  who  had  so  ruthlessly 
discarded  him?  Never!  For  Evelyn's  sake,  if 
not  for  his  own,  they  could  not  live  under  the 
same  roof. 

"  You  hesitate,"  said  Aubrey,  annoyed  at 
Wilford's  reluctance.  "  Perhaps  you  desire  to 
shake  me  off  altogether." 

"  No,  no !  It  is  not  that,  believe  me,  my  dear 
friend !  How  could  you  judge  me  so  ungrateful, 
after  your  unselfish  interest  ?  You  do  not  under- 
stand, you  can  never  understand,  my  motive  in 
declining  your  hospitality.  I  can  not  explain 
myself  !  This  I  beg  of  you,  Deverell :  in  the  name 
of  God,  believe  anything  of  me,  think  me  wanting 


DEVERELL  HALL.  299 

in  anything  but  gratitude,  if  I  say  I  can  not  live 
at  Deverell  Hall." 

Their  eyes  met.  Instantaneously  divining  the 
truth  Aubrey  covered  his  face  with  both  hands, 
groaned  aloud,  and  bowed  his  head  upon  the  table. 

Thus  Wilford  left  him,  and  stepped  out  upon 
the  piazza,  where  he  bared  his  hot  temples  to  the 
damp  air.  Halcyon  promises  the  future  held  for 
him,  fame,  and  perhaps  a  wife  with  a  jewel-heart, 
to  whom  he  would  consecrate  a  holier  love  than 
the  mad  infatuation  he  had  bestowed  upon 
Evelyn . 

She  was  waiting  for  him,  —  Myrtle,  with  soft 
eyes  and  wavy  hair.  Already  his  spirit-voice  was 
going  out  to  her  in  the  silence,  "  Coming,  my  love, 
coming." 

Though  the  Deverells  were  loyal  Americans, 
intermarriage  and  preference  had  so  perpetuated 
the  stamp  of  a  transatlantic  origin,  both  upon 
their  collective  life  and  personal  habits,  as  to  make 
them  seem  like  French  people.  Indeed  Aubrey 
was  so  Gallic  in  temperament  that  he  was  con- 
stantly called  the  young  Frenchman,  —  as  he  has 
been  designated  in  this  narrative ;  yet  it  was  several 
generations  since  the  family  had  paid  allegiance  to 
any  power  outside  their  adopted  nation.  Their 
estate  was  called  by  a  good  English  name,  the 
Hall ;  yet  when  the  young  master's  expectations 
were  known,  the  household  felt  as  if  the  bridal 


300  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

was  to  be  the  bringing  home  of  a  grande  dame  to 
the  chateau  of  a  seigneur  of  the  old  regime. 

Lively  scenes  ensued.  Despite  the  inclement 
weather,  every  door  and  window  was  thrown  open. 
Upholsterers,  painters,  and  carpenters,  were  on 
duty. 

Nearly  a  half-century  had  elapsed  since  the  old 
place  had  been  surrendered  to  decorators ;  and 
since  the  death  of  Aubrey's  mother  there  had 
been  little  social  life  in  these  lofty  apartments, 
where  once  the  beauty,  wealth,  and  chivalry  of 
the  Crescent  City  danced  and  sang.  For  twenty 
years  these  rooms  had  been  the  abode  of  silence. 
The  servants,  when  they  entered  the  old  parlors, 
walked  on  tiptoe;  for  the  older  ones  reverenced 
the  memory  of  a  gentle  presence  that  had  been 
the  light  of  the  place. 

The  crisp  air  fanned  each  apartment,  as  it 
assumed  some  new  aspect.  Faded  tapestry  gave 
place  to  India  silk  and  Turkish  damask.  Heavy 
mahogany  chairs  and  sofas  disappeared,  with  their 
dark  cushions  and  grotesque  carvings,  and  ham- 
mered brass  and  polished  ebony  usurped  stations 
so  long  guarded  by  their  clumsier  predecessors. 
There  was  one  object  left  untouched,  —  the  square 
piano,  over  whose  keys  Madame  Claudine's  fingers 
had  so  often  wandered,  her  sweet  contralto  voice 
charming  many  a  listener.  This  remained  in  the 
back  parlor,  unmolested. 

"  Monsieur,"  suggested  a  French  artist,  who  had 


DEVERELL  HALL.  301 

been  engaged  to  give  the  finishing  touches,  "I 
vould  zay,  you  put  vun  upright  in  place  of  ze 
square  piano,  vitch  do  look  exceedingly  ungrace- 
ful in  ze  drawing-room,  wiz  all  zis  moderne 
furniture." 

"  That  piano  shall  remain  where  it  is,"  said 
monsieur  with  brief  emphasis,  as  he  looked  at  it 
with  reverence.  "  It  was  my  mother's !  " 

Finally  the  curtains  were  lowered,  and  the  rooms 
left  once  more  to  dark  silence,  awaiting  the  advent 
of  a  new  mistress. 

Aubrey,  however,  had  yet  much  to  accomplish 
before  Christmas.  His  business  agent  urged  his 
attention  to  certain  buildings  that  needed  im- 
provement. In  overseeing  the  repairs  of  the  old, 
and  planning  the  construction  of  new  tenements, 
he  was  inevitably  detained  in  New  Orleans  far 
into  December. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

THE    WEDDING    EVENING. 
THUS  grief  still  treads  upon  the  heels  of  pleasure. 

CHRISTMAS  night  at  last!  At  Weldon 
\^s  Grange  were  assembled  the  favored  guests, 
—  all  relatives  of  the  happy  pair. 

Despite  the  well-filled  parlors,  the  quietness 
which  brooded  over  the  house  was  singularly  at 
variance  with  such  festivities.  Richly  dressed 
ladies  conversed  together  with  hushed  voices,  or 
promenaded  the  spacious  rooms,  pausing  to  admire 
some  exquisite  floral  decoration  or  bridal  gift. 
There  were  fair  maids  and  handsome  lads,  who 
would  fain  have  engaged  in  holiday  frolics,  had 
not  the  disapproving  glances  from  their  elders 
prevented. 

"  Children,  do  you  forget  ?  Children,  remember, 
sorrow  has  reigned  in  these  very  rooms !  "  So 
said  the  fathers  and  mothers. 

But  is  not  sorrow  akin  to  pleasure?  Where 
yesterday  rested  the  burial-casket,  and  mourners 
bowed  in  grief,  today  kneel  the  bride  and  groom, 
to  accept  the  marriage  trust. 

Upstairs  in  her  bright  boudoir  stood  Evelyn,  — 
a   marvel   of    loveliness,    as   her    fair    attendants 

declared. 

(302) 


THE    WEDDING  EVENING.  303 

We  have  seen  Hazel  and  Myrtle  as  they  stood 
over  Mrs.  Weldon's  coffin  in  their  mourning  robes. 
Now  they  were  decked  in  pure  white.  No  dis- 
tinction had  been  made  in  their  simple  attire, 
except  that  in  the  folds  of  Hazel's  dress  lay 
delicate  sprays  of  lily-of-the  valley  ;  while  Myrtle's 
gauzy  drapery  was  caught  here  and  there  with 
clustering  Stephen otis.  Evelyn  had  at  first  chosen 
lilies-of-the- valley  for  both ;  but  some  artistic 
prompting  led  her  to  make  this  floral  variation. 

Hazel's  hair  fell  in  a  glory  of  ripples  to  her 
waist,  and  in  its  bronze  meshes  lay  a  circlet  of 
pearls,  —  Evelyn's  bridal  gift,  —  and  her  arms  and 
throat  were  also  encircled  with  pearly  strands. 

Myrtle's  topaz  tresses  were  similarly  arranged, 
and  pearls  were  her  ornaments  also.  What  an  elf 
she  appeared,  her  dancing  eyes  and  glowing  cheeks 
full  of  happy  expectancy! 

"  Now  Evy,"  cried  Myrtle,  when  every  detail  of 
the  bride's  toilet  was  complete,  "  take  a  parade 
on  the  floor,  to  satisfy  us  that  nothing  is  lacking." 

Evelyn  did  her  sweet  cousin's  bidding,  and  could 
not  suppress  a  smile  of  vanity  at  their  admiration. 

"Beautiful  as  a  dream!"  cried  Hazel;  while 
Myrtle,  in  her  girlish  romance,  called  the  bride  a 
veritable  Cleopatra. 

"  Now,"  continued  Myrtle,  "  Hazel  and  I  have 
exhausted  our  compliments ;  so  pray  tell  us  how 
we  look.  I  have  been  dying  for  your  opinion  about 
my  hair.  Mamma  thought  my  pearl  brooch  would 


304  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

serve  as  a  clasp  to  confine  it,  but  I  wanted  my  hair 
exactly  like  Hazel's,  so  she  finally  consented.  What 
do  you  think  now,  —  honestly  ?  " 

Evelyn  let  her  eyes  wander  from  Myrtle  to 
Hazel,  and  back  again.  By  degrees  the  flush  of 
excitement  died  out,  leaving  her  face  almost  as 
white  as  the  orange-blossoms.  At  last  she  said 
nervously :  "  Candidly,  Myrtle,  I  do  not  like  your 
hair  flowing.  It  does  not  suit  your  face.  Take 
my  advice !  Let  Phebe  arrange  it  in  a  coronet, 
with  the  pearls  clasping  it  at  the  top." 

Myrtle  pursed  her  pretty  lips  and  said,  "  And 
Hazel's  too  ?  "  —  willing  to  submit  to  any  change, 
could  her  hair  only  be  like  her  companion's. 

"  No,  Hazel's  shall  remain  as  it  is.  I  —  oh  yes, 
there  is  yet  another  change  !  I  want  red  roses  in 
your  drapery,  in  place  of  those  faded  flowers. 
Some  exquisite  roses  were  sent  me  today.  Phebe, 
go  and  bring  them.  They  are  on  the  table  in  my 
sitting-room.  Quick ! " 

Myrtle  suppressed  a  tear  of  vexation,  but  at 
Evelyn's  imperturbable  look  she  surrendered  herself 
to  the  maid's  dexterous  hands. 

The  sole  child  of  indulgent  parents,  Myrtle  had 
been  much  petted.  She  was  wont  to  consult  her 
own  pleasure  in  all  things.  This  change  was  no 
small  disappointment,  for  she  and  Hazel  had  talked 
of  little  else  but  their  twin  toilets.  No  wonder  she 
thought  Evelyn  harsh,  and  mentally  called  her  a 
capricious  tyrant,  not  at  all  artistic  in  this  new 


THE    WEDDING  EVENING.  305 

choice  of  flowers  for  a  bridemaid.  "Red  roses! 
How  horrid  and  awkward !  I  wish  mamma  would 
come  in  directly  and  interfere,  I  do!  Mamma 
thought  me  just  perfect  as  I  was.  Why  don't 
she—" 

At  that  instant  the  door  opened  and  Mrs. 
Seymour  entered.  She  looked  at  her  daughter  in 
surprise:  "Why  these  changes  in  your  toilet, 
Myrtle  ?  "  she  asked  abruptly. 

"  Cousin  Evelyn  suggested  them,"  returned  the 
girl  pettishly ;  whereupon  the  mother  turned 
toward  Evelyn,  who  feigned  unconcern,  and  busied 
herself  with  retying  the  ribbons  of  her  bouquet. 
"I  thought  the  pale  and  starry  stephenotis  per- 
fectly suited  to  Myrtle! — And  her  hair!  Why 
Evelyn,  are  you  quite  certain  it  looks  better  in  a 
coronet  ?  " 

Seeing  that  diplomacy  was  unavoidable,  Evelyn 
whispered,  so  that  neither  of  the  bridemaids 
overheard  her  words :  "  It  was  for  your  sake, 
dear  auntie.  They  looked  so  like  each  other,  I 
feared  —  " 

Mrs.  Seymour  was  touched.  "  You  were  very 
considerate,  my  dear !  I  have  dreaded  seeing 
Myrtle  and  Hazel  together  tonight,  dressed  so 
much  alike.  I  saw  them  in  black  at  sister's 
funeral,  and  was  completely  unnerved  by  the 
resemblance." 

"Mamma,  I  believe  you  are  conspiring  with 
Cousin  Evelyn  after  all !  "  As  Phebe  adjusted 


30G  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

the  last  rose  in  the  drapery  Myrtle  flounced  across 
the  room,  and  stood  before  her  mother  rebelliously. 
"Look  at  me  now!  How  horrid,  in  comparison 
with  what  I  was  before ! " 

"  Oh  Myrtle,  you  look  a  very  Goddess  of  Love 
in  those  red  roses ! "  chimed  in  Hazel,  who  had 
been  a  silent  but  sisterly  sympathizer  with 
Myrtle's  disappointment. 

"  I  agree  with  Hazel !  Your  hair  is  done  beau- 
tifully, my  pet,"  said  Mrs.  Seymour ;  then,  seeing 
that  her  daughter's  displeasure  was  modified  by 
her  words,  she  added,  as  she  turned  again  to  her 
niece  :  "  We  must  go  down  at  once !  They  are 
already  playing  the  Wedding  March." 

They  kissed  the  bride,  and  wished  her  god- 
speed ;  and  then  the  four  met  the  gentlemen, 
already  waiting  in  the  hall,  —  Mr.  Elmer  Wei  don, 
who  was  to  give  away  the  bride  ;  his  two  hand- 
some sons,  who  were  to  be  groomsmen ;  and  the 
Honorable  Franklin  Seymour. 

A  few  moments  more,  and  Aubrey  Deverell 
had  accepted  Evelyn  Weldon  as  his  wife,  promising 
to  love  and  honor  her  until  death.  Then  they 
received  congratulations,  but  it  was  mockery  to 
Aubrey. 

Mockery !  Pity  the  bridegroom  whose  heart 
thus  cries  out  ere  the  breath  of  wedding  vows  is 
cold  !  Pity  the  man  and  pity  the  woman  ! 

Evelyn   leaned  heavily  on   her  husband's  arm, 


THE    WEDDING  EVENING.  307 

for  her  joy  was  overpowering.  He  felt  her  hand 
tremble,  and  its  cold  touch  might  be  felt  through 
her  glove.  "  You  are  not  quite  well,  I  fear,"  he 
whispered  solicitously. 

She  answered  his  look  with  one  of  triumph.  "  It 
is  the  close  rooms,"  her  lips  managed  to  say ;  but 
presently  she  cried  earnestly  :  "  Aubrey,  Aubrey  ! 
Take  rffe  into  the  air !  " 

He  led  her  along  the  hall'  to  a  low  window, 
looking  into  the  garden.  Throwing  open  the  sash 
he  bade  her  lean  out,  so  that  she  could  drink  in 
the  breeze. 

"  There,  I  am  already  better,  —  much  better, 
Aub  —  My  God  !  What  was  that  ?  "  She  broke 
from  him  suddenly,  with  a  fear-stricken  face. 

She  had  heard  a  rustling  among  the  dead  leaves, 
thickly  strewn  below  the  window. 

"  Someone  is  hiding  outside !  Aubrey,  oh 
Aubrey !  " 

"  Come  away !  You  are  nervous  !  You  need 
rest,"  returned  her  new-made  husband,  gently 
placing  his  arm  about  her. 

As  if  she  heard  him  not  she  again  leaned  forth 
into  the  darkness,  scanning  it  narrowly;  for  she 
was  impressed  with  the  idea  that  a  human  being 
was  lurking  near.  Yes,  distinctly  she  heard  labored 
breathing !  What  was  that  gleaming  out  of  the 
darkness  like  two  steel  points  ?  A  pair  of  piercing 
eyes  ?  Once  before  she  had  seen  them,  —  once, 
before,  as  she  came  home  from  Cypress  Dell ! 


308  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

Aubrey  heard  her  timid  cry,  and  saw  her  white 
hand  hesitatingly  seek  the  window-ledge.  "  You 
are  fainting,  —  Evelyn,  my  wife  !  " 

She  did  not  answer,  but  fell  back  into  his  arms. 
The  guests  were  surprised,  though  not  seriously 
alarmed,  when  the  word  went  about  that  Mrs. 
Deverell  was  ill,  and  had  retired  unceremoniously 
to  her  own  room ;  and  they  were  reassured,  half- 
an-hour  later,  when  the  bridegroom  rejoined  them, 
with  the  tidings  that  his  wife  was  sleeping 
peacefully,  after  a  slight  swoon.  They  therefore 
repaired  to  the  banquet-room,  the  groom  and  Mrs. 
Seymour  leading  the  way,  though  regret  at  the 
bride's  absence  hung  over  them  like  a  pall. 


CHAPTER   XXXVIII. 

LIGHT  THROUGH  NIGHT. 

THE  thorns  which  I  have  reaped  are  of  the  tree 
I  planted ;  they  have  torn  me,  and  I  bleed ; 
I  should  have  known  what  fruit  would  spring 
from  such  a  seed. 

CHILDB  HAROLD. 

"QLEEPING  peacefully!"  Aubrey  was  the 
O  victim  of  deceit  when  he  went  from  his 
wife's  couch  with  those  words  on  his  lips.  He 
did  not  see  the  long  lashes  lift  themselves  slightly. 
He  did  not  see  the  cunning  look  as  he  bade  Phebe 
sit  near  her  mistress,  and  call  him  if  she  became 
restless. 

Scarcely  had  the  door  closed  when  Evelyn  opened 
her  eyes  with  feigned  surprise. 

"  Phebe,  that  light  annoys  me  !  I  can  not  sleep, 
with  it  shining  so  bright.  Why  are  you  here  ?  I 
sha'  n't  need  you  again  till  morning.  Turn  the 
light  very  low,  and  then  leave  me  alone." 

"  I 's  afeard  to  leabe  y'  alone,  Missy  Eb'lyn.  I  '11 
jis'  lay  down  on  de  flo',  heah  by  de  fiah,  so 's  ye 
can  call  me,  honey,  if  ye  wants  me." 

"  Will  you  obey  me,  and  go  ?  " 

"  Yes  'm  !     I  is  ;  but  marsa  done  toP  me,  —  " 
(309) 


310  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

"  How  dare  you  parry  words,  when  you  know  I 
am  dying  for  sleep  ?  " 

The  girl  went  away  crestfallen. 

No  sooner  was  she  gone  than  her  mistress  locked 
the  door,  hurriedly  dressed  herself  in  plain  attire, 
drew  a  waterproof  close  about  her  face,  and  then 
stole  forth  into  the  night. 

The  cold  light  of  the  stars  guided  her  to  the  spot 
where  she  had  encountered  those  eyes.  In  dread 
uncertainty  she  turned  her  gaze  in  every  direction, 
meeting  naught  but  darkness,  which  seemed  sent  on 
purpose  to  baffle  her. 

From  the  house  came  the  suppressed  hum  of 
voices,  but  there  was  none  of  the  merry-making 
which  characterizes  a  wedding  party.  No  music 
and  laughter  cheered  the  midnight  air. 

Only  the  youngest  guests  had  done  justice  to  the 
tempting  viands.  The  disappointed  servants,  who 
had  spent  days  of  toil  over  the  feast,  carried  the 
meats,  salads,  pastries,  and  ices,  all  back  to  the 
kitchen. 

"  Dah  'm  de  bridecake,  what  took  me  a  bressed 
day  ter  stir  and  bake,  — not  teched  !  Dah  it  am, 
wi'  de  reef  ob  flow's  'bout  it,  zackly  like  it  went  on 
de  table.  .  Fo'  de  Lawd,  chillum,  I 's  bressed  if  I 
ebber  see  sich  doin's,  'fo'  or  since  the  'mancipa- 
tion. It  do  seem  more  nor  a  funeral  as  a  weddin'. 
Bridecake  not  cut  f oh  de  ring !  Dat  am  bad  luck. 
Now  ye  heahs  me,  brack  uns,  it  am  bad  luck,  sho's 
you  bo'n ! " 


LIGHT   THROUGH  NIGHT.  311 

So  spake  old  Aunt  Sarah,  as  she  deposited  on 
the  dresser  the  snowy  pyramid  in  question,  with  its 
garland  of  smilax  and  hyacinths. 

The  bridecake  uncut!  It  must  indeed  have 
been  a  sad  wedding  supper !  The  ruby  wine  was 
still  in  the  crystal  decanters,  and  no  toasts  had 
been  proposed  in  honor  of  the  bride ! 

At  midnight  the  guests  began  to  retire  to  their 
respective  apartments.  By  one  o'clock  the  parlors 
were  empty,  only  Mrs.  Seymour  and  the  house- 
keeper remaining  below. 

"I  have  been  to  Evelyn's  door,  Aubrey,"  said 
the  aunt,  as  he  returned  from  bidding  the  last 
guest  farewell.  "  I  found  her  room  perfectly 
quiet,  so  I  did  n't  go  in.  Phebe  says  she  does  n't 
wish  to  be  disturbed." 

Aubrey  said  he  would  go  out  for  a  walk  before 
retiring,  as  he  had  a  wretched  headache,  and  a 
few  breaths  of  fresh  air  might  do  him  good. 

Really  he  wanted  to  be  alone  in  his  misery. 
The  bondage  galled  him,  in  which  he  had  been  so 
suddenly  ensnared.  He  felt  the  iron  in  his  heart, 
and  could  have  cried  aloud  in  his  agony.  He  had 
spoken  to  Ha/el  but  once  that  evening,  and  then 
his  brief  words  were  :  <*  Are  you  happy  now,  little 

one,?"  BaacwftLibwy 

She  had  tried  to  throw  gladness  into  her  words  : 

"  I  am  happy  for  her  sake  ;  "  but  her  voice  faltered, 
and  she  turned  away  quickly,  lest  he  discover  what 
she  now  knew  to  be  true. 


312  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

Meanwhile  Evelyn  was  grouping  her  way  hither 
and  thither  in  the  darkness,  a  despairing  cry  going 
up  from  her  heart :  "  Merciful  Heaven,  guide  me 
to  her,  lest  my  new  life  be  ruined  ere  it  begin !  " 

At  length  a  suppressed  cough  broke  the  fate- 
ful stillness. 

"  She  is  here  ;  thank  God !  "  Evelyn  exclaimed 
aloud,  as  she  parted  the  shrubberies  whence  the 
sound  seemed  to  issue. 

Suddenly  her  foot  came  in  contact  with  someone 
crouching  in  the  darkness. 

«  Philias  Ward  ?  "  called  Evelyn  hoarsely. 

Another  spell  of  coughing  came  on,  and  then  a 
response,  half-defiant :  "  Yes,  I 's  Philias  Ward. 
I's  come  here  to  die,  miss." 

"You  do  not  know  your  peril,"  panted  Mrs. 
Deverell,  laying  an  imperious  hand  upon  the 
mulatto. 

"What  matter  if  I  is  found  out?"  asked  the 
woman  in  a  dogged  tone.  I  can 't  live  but  a  day 
longer.  For  tree  days  I's  been  draggin'  myself 
heah  to  see  you,  an'  be  tol'  she  —  Hazel  —  had  ben 
resto'ed  to  her  own  home.  You'  p'omise!  Hab 
you  gib  Mis'  Seymour  —  ?  " 

"  Hush  !  There  are  those  within  hearing  who 
would  kill  you  if  they  knew  you  were  here. 
Philias  Ward,  beware !  A  terrible  punishment 
will  follow,  if  you  expose  yourself  to  my  kinsmen. 
A  score  of  them  are  here  tonight,  in  this  house ; 
for  this  is  my  wedding  night." 


LIGHT  THROUGH  NIGHT.  313 

"  You'  weddin' ! "  echoed  the  other,  still  un- 
daunted, "  you'  weddin' !  Is  dey  here,  —  Hazel, 
Myrine,  —  wid  her  mudder  'n  little  Myrtle  ?  I 
looked  in  de  hall  windah,  and  saw  many  ladies 
and  some  young  gals,  but  not  Myrine,  not  Myrtle. 
Oh,  I  'd  know  'em,  even  after  dese  many  yeahs ! 
How  lubly  dey  mus'  look  togeder,  —  de  twin 
sisters ! " 

"  I  saw  you  outside  the  window,  and  have  come 
to  warn  you  of  your  danger." 

"Danger?  I  ain't  afeard.  I'd  face  my  deah 
old  mistus,  if  I  knowed  she  was  at  de  weddin', 
along  wid  Myrine  an'  Myrtle.  I  'd  rush  in  dar,  'n 
fall  oil  my  knees,  un'  I  'd  let  my  old  mistus  know 
how  sorrow  I  is  for  my  'havior." 

"My  God !  "  groaned  Evelyn. 

"  Hain't  you'  aunt  come  from  New  Orleans  to 
de  weddin'  ?  "  the  mulatto  asked,  grasping  Evelyn's 
cloak  as  she  spoke. 

"No,"  returned  Evelyn,  —  and  the  lie  choked 
her,  —  "  they  are  not  here  ;  and  it  is  well  for  you  ! 
—  Come  with  me.  I  will  make  you  comfortable 
till  morning.  I  will  give  you  food  and  drink." 
Mentally  she  added :  "  It  would  be  no  great  sin 
should  I  give  her  a  draught  that  would  put  her  to 
sleep  forever.  She  is  already  at  death's  door. 
She  must  go  !  " 

"  I  can  sleep  here,  and  I  aint  hung'y,"  said  the 
mulatto  obdurately. 

"  Sleep  here,  to  be  trampled  upon  ?  No,  you 
must  come  with  me." 


314  THE   DEATH  TRUST. 

"  Wait !  It 's  a  comin'  on  agin,  —  de  cough. 
It'll  soon  —  tab  me  —  to  pieces.  One  or  two 
more  sick  spells '11  finish  — 

A  struggle  ensued.  When  the  cough  subsided 
both  women  were  startled  by  the  sound  of  some- 
one raising  a  sash,  and  Evelyn  could  see  her  aunt 
leaning  from  a  back  window,  to  close  the  outside 
shutters. 

Philias  also  saw  Mrs.  Seymour,  and  staggered 
to  her  feet,  gasping:  "My  mistus,  my  mistus !  " 
Like  a  maniac  she  wrenched  her  hand  from  Eve- 
lyn's grasp,  and  rushed  through  the  shrubbery, 
toward  that  wide  stream  of  light,  wherein  her  old 
mistress's  face  was  distinctly  outlined. 

Evelyn  stood  transfixed,  her  heart  crying  piti- 
fully :  "  I  am  lost,  —  lost,  lost,  LOST  !  " 

She  saw  the  mulatto  fall  forward,  her  head 
striking  against  the  casement,  and  heard  Mrs. 
Seymour's  cry  of  alarm !  "  It  is  Philias  Ward  ! 
Merciful  God !  "  No  answer  came  in  response  to 
her  cry. 

Unconsciously  Evelyn  pressed  forward  a  few 
steps,  repeating  the  words  audibly :  "  God  grant 
she  is  dead!  Grant  that  her  lips  are  closed  for- 
ever !  Then  I  shall  be  saved,  saved  for  him  !  " 

"  And  your  wickedness  would  endure  until 
nothing  remained  of  your  humanity.  No,  by  the 
Eternal !  If  Philias  Ward  dies,  her  sec  rot  1111- 
revealed,  I  shall  deliver  to  Mrs.  Seymour  her 
long-lost  child !  "  These  words,  spoken,  with  the 


LIGHT  THROUGH  NIGHT.  315 

vengeance  of  Gallic-  blood,  made  Evelyn  reel  as 
though  struck  by  a  bullet. 

"  You  here  !     You  know  all !  " 

"  Everything  !  Would  to  Heaven  I  had  died, 
rather  than  live  to  bestow  my  father's  name  upon 
such  a  woman.  You  have  robbed  an  innocent 
child  of  her  birthrightT  a  mother  of  her  child  !  " 

There  was  a  gasp  and  a  fall.  For  humanity's 
sake  Aubrey  lifted  his  wife  from  the  ground,  but 
without  a  single  heart-pang  learned  the  truth.  She 
had  fallen  at  death's  door,  though  not  quite  across 
the  threshold. 

All  the  next  day  his  bride  heard  a  voice  calling 
to  her  from  the  valley  of  shadows  ;  but  just  before 
answering  to  that  call  she  opened  her  eyes,  and 
whispered  her  husband's  name. 

He  approached  the  bedside,  his  face  almost  as 
white  as  hers,  and  looked  down  upon  her ;  but  he 
could  not  speak.  What  words  of  kind  farewell 
could  his  betrayed  heart  utter  to  this  guilty  and 
dying  woman  ? 

"  I  have  been  wicked,  Aubrey,  —  but  it  was  all, 
all,  through  my  disappointed  heart !  I  thought 
you  loved  her.  I  sought  revenge  !  When  you  came 
again  I  would  have  acknowledged  my  sin  ;  but  it 
was  too  late  !  Rather  than  lose  you  I  would  have 
carried  my  treason  to  the  grave!  I  might  have 
known  what  fruit  must  spring  from  the  seed  of  my 
bitter  sowing !  " 

She  closed  her  eyes,  her  face  was  distorted  with 


316  THE  DEATH  Til U ST. 

the  pain  which  was  so  soon  to  close  her  account 
with  the  world. 

The  agony  passed,  and  she  spoke  again :  "  Aubrey, 
I  can 't  ask  forgiveness  ;  but  darling,  do  n't  judge 
me  wholly  wicked.  I  am  not  so  false  as  I  seem, — 
as  I  know  you  think  me.  As  your  wife,  I  would 
have  outlived  every  taint  of  evil." 

Another  spasm,  and  then  she  said  :  "  My  aunt, 
Hazel,  Myrtle  !  I  want  them.  Quick,  or  it  will 
be  too  late." 

They  came  speedily,  and  then  she  said  :  "  Come 
near,  very  near,  all  of  you  !  " 

Mrs.  Seymour  pressed  one  of  her  niece's  hands 
forgivingly  within  her  own,  and  bent  to  kiss  her, 
but  Evelyn  pushed  her  back. 

"  No,  no !  Do  n't  touch  me  until  you  have  heard. 
Perhaps  you  have  heard  !  Perhaps  she  —  the  — 
Philias  — " 

"  Does  Evelyn  know  Philias  is  here  ?  "  asked  Mrs. 
Seymour  in  bewilderment. 

Aubrey  bowed  assent.  "  Hear  what  your  niece 
has  to  say,  Madame  Seymour.  She  has  revived 
from  this  last  attack." 

The  aunt  leaned  over,  that  she  might  hear  more 
distinctly. 

"  Philias  Ward  !     You  saw  her  last  night  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  she  came  to  the  window,  just  as  I  was 
closing  the  shutters.  She  called  my  name,  and 
then  fell  to  the  ground.  Before  I  could  go  to  her 
assistance  she  was  dead,  — with  hemorrhage." 


LIGHT  THROUGH  NIGHT.  317 

"  She  died  before  confessing  ?  " 

"  Yes !  I  am  deeper  in  the  dark  than  ever  about 
my  lost  babe,  my  little  Myrine  !  "  said  Mrs.  Seymour 
hopelessly. 

Evelyn  rose  with  an  effort  to  a  sitting  posture, 
and  beckoned  to  her  two  young  cousins,  who 
wept  at  the  foot  of  the  bed.  At  this  signal  they 
came  to  her  side. 

"  Look,  Aunt  Lydia,  look !  You  always  thought 
them  so  like !  Hear  the  truth  —  from  my  lips ! 
Hazel  is  your  long-lost  daughter,  —  your  Myrine  ! 
Look  !  In  my  desk  —  look  there,  and  find  a  rose- 
wood box  and  two  letters.  One  is  from  —  from 
my  dead  mother,  to  you.  The  other  is  in  Philias 
Ward's  crabbed  hand  —  her  confession,  —  the 
abduction  of  —  of  —  of  Hazel.  Read, — you  will 
be  convinced.  The  bundle  of  baby-clothes,  —  in 
the  letter  —  I  threw  —  The  dog  saw  me,  —  Bijou, 
and  strove  to  bring  my  crime  to"  light.  Do  n't  cen- 
sure me  after  I  am  gone.  Let  my  contrite  blessing 
abide  with  you  all  —  now  —  and  —  for  —  ever !  " 

Another  struggle  and  Evelyn  Weldon  Deverell 
had  passed  the  unseen  gates. 

In  Cypress  Dell,  beside  her  parents,  Aubrey  laid 
his  bride  of  a  day.  It  was  not  in  cruelty,  it  was 
not  in  triumph,  that  he  turned  from  her  tomb,  and 
breathed  more  freely. 

A  year  later,  when  he  led  the  beautiful  Myrine 
Seymour  to  the  altar,  his  hair  was  prematurely 


818  THE  DEATH  TRUST. 

gray.  In  his  furrowed  face  was  the  shadow  of  a 
bitter  sorrow ;  but  this  did  not  lessen  his  love  for 
Myrine,  when  he  conducted  her  through  the  por- 
tals of  Deverell  Hall,  bared  his  noble  brow,  lifted 
her  bridal  veil,  and  placed  upon  her  true  lips  the 
first  kiss  of  wedlock. 

From  their  terrace  windows  they  could  look 
down  the  avenue  and  see  a  picturesque  little 
villa,  destined  to  be  the  home  of  Wilford  Hylton 
and  his  bride-elect,  Myrtle  Seymour. 

One  night,  as  they  stood  in  the  gloaming  together, 
Aubrey  with  his  arm  about  his  young  wife,  her 
head  resting  trustingly  on  his  shoulder,  Hazel 
whispered  :  "  Tomorrow  will  be  my  sister's  wed- 
ding day.  Tomorrow  Myrtle  also  will  be  very 
happy.  Aubrey,  see  how  the  moon  smiles  upon 
their  pretty  home,  —  a  benediction ! " 

He  drew  her  closer  to  him,  and  silently  prayed 
that  the  coming  union  might  be  as  blessed  as  their 
own. 


